


Stay With Me a While

by Anogete



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Chicago Blackhawks, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hockey, NHL RPF, No Strings Attached, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 17:25:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 54,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13299654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anogete/pseuds/Anogete
Summary: There's something going on with the woman who washes his gear after the home games, but Daniel Carcillo can't quite figure out what is making her look so sad.  When she finally confesses, he feels compelled to lend her a shoulder to cry on, even though that's not really his style.  Amanda is surprised when the team thug is the only person in her life who reaches out to her when she feels like she's being buried by grief.  An ill-advised no strings attached arrangement and a mutual love of music turn into something more than either of them dreamed of.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally written in the spring of 2015 and posted on Mibba in May of that year. It was 23 chapters, but I've consolidated those into 6 to avoid blowing up notifications of anyone who might be subscribed to me and to allow an easier read for anyone who is interested. I've been dusting off my old fics, cleaning them up, and posting them here to consolidate my work. If you're not a fan of RPF and aren't that familiar with NHL fic, then I hope you'll give this a go by reading it as an original romance.
> 
> Sprinkled throughout the fic are links to certain songs that are mentioned during the course of the story. I hope they will enhance your enjoyment of the fic if you choose to listen.
> 
> If you do read, I'd love feedback on what you liked (or even what you didn't). Comments here are treasured as are notes/messages on Tumblr (I'm also anogete there) or emails to anogete527@yahoo.com.

It was obviously a bad call. A year in the minors and the ref was already officiating a NHL game like he was hot shit. Danny smacked the blade of his stick off the concrete wall with a sharp crack as he rounded the corner to the locker room. There were just over four minutes left in the game, and the high-handed ref who’d been riding his ass the entire game had dealt him a major penalty. Even when it was obvious it had not been boarding.

Adrenaline from the close game was pumping through his veins and making him irritable and frustrated since he couldn’t be out there on the ice. Danny slammed his hand into the door of the locker room and charged through to get to his spot on the bench. Halfway across the room, he launched his gloves into the wall with all the force he could muster. They missed and smacked against the door of the wooden locker, rattling it and nearly cracking the wood.

“Fuck,” he growled, loping over, skates still on, to inspect the damage. He never got to his destination because a slight movement a couple yards away caught his attention.

Standing behind a laundry bin was a woman in a white t-shirt and black pants that looked like scrubs. Her hair was shoulder-length, dirty blonde, and pulled back into a low ponytail. Her wide eyes were green and her full, pink lips were parted in surprise. He’d seen her around before; she worked for the team, but he wasn’t quite sure what her job was. She made herself scarce when the players or coaching staff were around. She was pretty, but not really what the guys on the team, including him, went for. Not very polished or sophisticated or sexy. Very girl-next-door. And looking very scared at the moment.

“Uh, sorry,” he sheepishly offered. “For scaring you.”

She shook her head and forced a smile that never reached her eyes. “Um, it’s okay. I was just leaving.”

Danny watched as she hurriedly gathered a pile of towels at her feet and tossed them into the bin. He didn’t mean to, but checking out her ass was inevitable with her back to him like it was. “No, really, I’m sorry. Throwing the gloves was a bratty thing to do. I was just frustrated.” Was frustrated. Past tense. All that boiling anxiety and anger from the game was quickly fading into curiosity.

“You... don’t have to explain. I shouldn’t even be here.” She wouldn’t look at him, and he felt mildly irritated that she was so demure.

“You work here,” Danny said.

“I’m running behind. I’m usually out of the locker room way before the game ends.”

“They’ve still got four minutes left. I got a major.”

She leaned into the bin and wheeled it around. “Sorry,” she said over her shoulder, and then she was pushing the bin through the swinging doors and out of sight.

* * *

Something about her eyes had been bothering him. He hadn’t seen her since the night he’d barged into the locker room and scared her, but he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He’d asked a few of the guys who’d been in Chicago for years if they knew her name, but none of them did. A few of the more observant guys, like Toews and Sharp, had seen her around but knew nothing about her. Didn’t seem to want to know anything about her, actually.

Danny wanted to know why she looked so sad. Her eyes looked dull and empty. Not that he was some white knight or anything. He couldn’t even get his own shit together, bouncing around between teams and struggling to find a spot where he fit, where he didn’t get pigeonholed as the bully, even if he knew his actions placed him squarely in that box. Plus, the clock was ticking down on his career. Some of the better players got to play through the early part of their thirties. Guys like him? Offers of a contract--even a measly one year contract--started drying up right about now.

When he’d started out in the AHL teams, he’d thought if he could just crawl his way into one of the NHL teams, then he’d have it made. Six or seven figure salaries were handed out like candy on Halloween, and he’d be set for life if he could hang on for a few years. The thing they don’t tell kids starting out is that Uncle Sam takes his cut. Agents and managers take their cut. And his dumb ass was really good at blowing money on frivolous shit.

Last year he’d gone to see a financial advisor who had taken a look at his investment account statement and shook his head sadly when Danny had said he planned on retiring between thirty-two and thirty-five. Not happening. Not even possible. He would run out of money within ten or fifteen years. And then what was he going to do? Coach hockey at a middle school back home? He didn’t have that kind of patience. Hell, he was launching gloves across the locker room because some baby-faced ref made a bad call.

He’d be lying if he didn’t admit part of the stress that caused the outburst was due to the financial situation. He’d lucked into the contract with Chicago. They’d given him a shot because he’d done well there for a couple seasons, but each year that ticked by left him with fewer prospective teams who wanted to fork over half a mil for him to protect their star players.

Crawford and Kane were leading the way down the hall, following some lady with a butch haircut and a clipboard. Seabrook was fiddling with his phone to Danny’s left. “I hate hospitals,” Danny said to his teammate under his breath.

“Yeah, I hear you, man. Smells funny.” Seabrook agreed before shoving his phone into his back pocket.

They were all visiting the hospital to cheer up patients. It was part of the community service the Blackhawks encouraged their players to participate in. Danny didn’t mind visiting with the patients, but he really didn’t like hospitals. They were soulless and sterile and creepy. And filled with grief, he mentally added when he heard the soft sobs of a woman crying.

The sound was horrible. Not too loud, but filled with pain. Danny’s stomach soured and knotted up in sympathy. No one should have to feel that sad.

Kane and Crawford hurried past the woman on the bench along the wall. Grief makes people uncomfortable, Danny thought as he glanced at the woman out of the corner of his eye when he passed. She was young--probably in her late twenties--and blonde. Danny glanced back and watched her lift her head and wipe her tears away with the back of her hand. Her green eyes were sparkling with fat teardrops. For a moment, his footsteps faltered.

“Shit, I feel bad for her,” Seabrook muttered as they kept walking.

Danny didn’t reply because he was too busy wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him or if the weeping woman down the hall was the same one who’d been on his mind lately. The same woman who washed his dirty towels and who knew what else.

The two hours they spent following the hospital representative around from room to room was a blur. Danny knew he smiled and joked with people, signed autographs and took pictures, gave hugs and even ruffled the hair of a few kids who were stuck in this hellhole getting treatment, but his mind was on her and why she sounded like her life was ending.

By the time they were finished, Danny ducked out before the others and briskly walked down the hall trying to find an exit. Hospitals felt like mazes with hallways branching off into more hallways that never seemed to end. When he finally saw the elevator sign pointing around the corner, he blew out a sigh of relief. These visits were tough enough without the added stress of her and why that look in her eyes was haunting him.

He punched the down button and paced, waiting anxiously for the elevator to arrive. When he turned back around, he saw a woman standing by the bank of elevators. Not just any woman, but HER. She had a white tissue fisted in her right hand, and her nose was red from crying. Danny opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

She looked up and caught his eye. He watched recognition wash over her features. Her eyes widened, and her jaw went slack. “Oh,” she said.

Danny finally cleared his throat. “Hi,” he said, lamely.

“Hi.”

“Small town.”

“Yeah,” she mumbled, looking down at the floor between her feet.

“Hey,” Danny said softly, reaching out to touch her arm and stopping just a few inches short. “You okay?”

“Not so much.” Her voice was quivering. Danny felt his heart ache for her. It was a strange feeling, something he wasn’t used to.

“I... I wish I could help.”

She shook her head once and absently flicked away the gathering tears with the pad of her thumb. “I’ll live.”

“I’m glad.”

His simple response made her look up at him in surprise. Their eyes locked for a brief moment and then the elevator dinged as it arrived to take them away. Danny motioned for her to enter before him and then followed her inside. She was leaning against the wall, her right hand clenching the railing so tightly that her knuckles were white. Danny punched the ground floor button and glanced over to see tears running down her face again.

“Hey,” he said softly, not knowing what to say.

The simple word set her off and her shoulders slumped, her body shaking, as she folded in on herself

Danny watched the doors slide shut, locking the two of them in this little box. He leaned his head back against the wall and shut his eyes, trying to ignore the way her muffled sobs were ripping his gut apart. After three long seconds, he pushed out the air in his lungs on a sharp exhale and moved toward her.

“Come here,” he murmured, holding his arms out, half expecting her to recoil. Instead, she stepped forward and melted into him. He felt her arms wrap around his waist as he folded his own around her body. Her head was tucked nicely under his chin, and she felt right in his arms. The intimacy was shocking and gave him mixed emotions.

She hadn’t offered an explanation, so he didn’t demand one. Danny wasn’t a warm and fuzzy kind of guy. He knew he had sharp edges and probably let his temper and stubbornness get the best of him sometimes. He didn’t spend time thinking about his emotions and his dreams, as evidenced by his current situation in which his dream job was coming to an end and he had no back up plan. Something about her made him want to be the shelter in the storm, to be the rock, and he didn’t even know her, not even her name.

The elevator came to a stop on the first floor, and the doors slid open. The chatter of people in the lobby made her jerk away from him.

“I’m... I’m sorry,” she said, adjusting her purse on her shoulder and scrubbing the wetness from her face.

“Don’t be. You looked like you needed a hug.”

She stepped out of the elevator and turned around to say, “Yeah, thanks for that.”

Before he could open his mouth to ask her if she wanted to go somewhere and talk, before he could even ask her name, she was headed toward the door. Danny watched her all but run out of the lobby and through the automatic doors that led to the circular drop-off lane. For a moment he considered chasing after her, but then he came to his senses. He did not need to be following a woman he didn’t know out to her car in the parking garage.

* * *

“You headin’ home?” Sharpie asked as he clapped Danny on the back. Danny looked up from his spot on the bench and watched his teammate walk backward across the empty locker room.

“Yeah, in a few.”

“You okay? Not like you to hang around after a game,” Sharpie replied as he pushed the door open.

He was right; Danny didn’t hang around after games. He showered, threw his suit back on, and went home. Or the closest thing to home nowadays. Three years and three cities was pretty tough.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Get your ass home to your family,” Danny replied, launching a wadded up towel toward the door. It fell short, and Sharpie disappeared. Danny leaned back against his locker so he could wait. For her.

He couldn’t figure out if she was avoiding him or if she was playing her usual game of staying out from under foot when all the guys were in the locker room. It had been over two weeks since they’d seen each other in the hospital. She didn’t travel with the team, so really she’d only had to avoid him for a week. They’d been out of town on a road trip that dropped them in Florida and North Carolina.

Two back-to-back home games after the road trip were exhausting. He let his head drop back to rest on the wooden support behind him and closed his eyes. There were towels everywhere. She always picked up the towels, so she had to show up eventually. All he had to do was wait. Even if he didn’t really understand why she’d gotten under his skin and why he needed to know what was wrong.

The door whooshed open and footsteps faltered. Danny opened his eyes and saw her standing in the doorway. “Hi,” he said.

“Sorry. I’ll come back when you’re done.”

“Wait,” he said, pushing himself forward to the edge of his seat. She stopped halfway out the door. “Can you tell me if you’re okay?”

Slowly, she turned back to face him, her pink lips parted and her green eyes looked weary and wary. “I will be.” Each word floated through the air on its own, like little islands all in a row.

“I don’t even know your name.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she replied with a shake of her head.

“My name is Danny.”

“I know. I wash your jerseys.”

Danny wanted to get up and go to her, make her sit down and talk, but she looked spooked and close to jetting. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Amanda.” She fidgeted, shifting from one foot to another, before bending over to collect a wad of towels on the floor. She tossed them into the bin in the middle of the locker room and started making her rounds, grabbing two laundry bags at a time from each of the spots along the wall. One bag for each guy.

Danny’s was open in front of him. He pulled the drawstring closed and pushed himself up to toss the bag into the bin. Then he went along the wall opposite her and helped collect the bags filled with dirty gear to be washed. He was so busy with the task that he didn’t notice she had stopped to watch him.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Helping, I guess. I didn’t want to be a dick and watch you do all the work.”

She pushed her hair back, but it cascaded right back into place, framing her heart-shaped face. “Oh. Thanks.”

“Did you know Boston has a song called Amanda?” It was a lame thing to say, but she was standing there staring at him like he had two heads, and he didn’t want her to leave.

“Yeah. My dad named me after it.”

“No shit?”

“No shit,” she agreed before tossing the last two bags into the overfull bin.

Danny cleared his throat and shoved his hands in the pockets of his trousers. “It’s a good song. Tom Scholz is a songwriting genius. He was obsessed with creating the most perfect and melodic rock songs.”

She stopped gathering towels and looked at him for a long moment before finally saying, “You’re a weird guy, Danny.”

“I get that a lot,” he said, flashing a smile that showed his missing teeth. “Hey, you were pretty sad the last time I saw you. You okay?”

Her back stiffened. “Yeah.”

“Is it you or someone else?”

“Someone else.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” She tossed the last of the towels in and threw all her weight into pulling the bin backward toward the door.

“Okay,” Danny replied. “I got a shoulder if you need one.”

Amanda let the bin slow and stop. She looked over the pile of laundry at him and sighed. “My grandma. It’s my grandma.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Lung cancer that turned into stomach cancer. Terminal.” Her voice was soft and her eyes looked haunted.

Danny felt his chest tighten. “How long?”

“Weeks.”

“Treatment?”

She shook her head and diverted her eyes. “None.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. Thanks for helping me. Goodnight.” And then she rolled the bin out of the room and left him alone.

* * *

She’d been avoiding him for over a week. He’d lingered after home games, but never saw her. Then again, he didn’t stay too long because he didn’t want to force her to talk when she didn’t want to. And who the hell did he think he was anyway? He certainly wasn’t a therapist or a grief counselor or even a friend. He was just some hockey player who couldn’t stop thinking about the girl who cleaned up after him. Couldn’t stop hearing the heart-wrenching sobs that day in the elevator when she’d let him hold her.

Danny had left with three other guys. They were the last to head home from a long and grinding game against the Kings. By the time they got to the door that exited to the private parking garage, he realized he’d left his wallet and keys in his locker. Telling the other guys to go on, he doubled back to retrieve his shit. If he was hoping he’d run into her, then he wasn’t going to admit that to himself.

Pushing open the door, he scanned the empty room, feeling a brief moment of disappointment. After grabbing his wallet and keys off the top shelf of his locker, he took long strides back to the door. Two yards from his destination, he saw her. She was sitting on the ground just to the right of the final spot where Crawford’s locker was. Her back was to the wall and her knees were pulled up to her chest. She was watching him, but had her lips pursed so as to not make a sound.

“Hi,” she said when she realized she’d been made. The one syllable conveyed so much. Grief, exhaustion, fear.

Danny turned on his heel and walked over to her. Squatting down a couple feet away, he said, “Hey. You okay?”

“Not really.” Her eyes were wide, pleading. Maybe she needed his shoulder tonight. It made him feel useful and proud and good. Those were rare feelings nowadays. So, he shifted over to sit down beside her, his back against the wall as well.

“Offer still stands. My shoulder doesn’t bite.” He glanced over at her, tracing the profile of her face.

“It’ll probably be this week. The hospice nurse says no more than ten days. I... I hate going home from work. I just... just stand there in the doorway and look at her lying in bed and strain to see if she’s still breathing. Sometimes it takes me a couple minutes to decide. It’s....” Amanda’s voice trailed off. She closed her eyes and turned her head away from him.

Danny wanted to throw his arm over her shoulders and pull her into his side, but he didn’t know her well enough. “I’m sorry. I, I don’t know what to say. That sucks.”

“Yeah, it does,” she agreed.

“You need anything, then let me know.”

Amanda shook her head before glancing over at him, locking his gaze with her haunted, heavy one. “No, this is old hat. We’ve been battling this for over two years. Well, she’s been battling. I’ve been watching.”

“And taking care of her, right?,” he added.

“That’s the easy part.”

“Not from what I hear. Heard that’s pretty tough.”

“Maybe. I don’t remember what it was like before this,” she whispered. “I’m so scared of....”

When she didn’t continue, he prodded her by saying, “Of what?”

“Everything. What’s coming. Life without her. Being alone.”

Each word twisted his gut just a little more than the last. “Where’s your family?”

“Gone.”

“All of it?”

“My parents were only children. They died when I was a baby. Car accident. My grandmother raised me. Her husband–my grandfather–died before I was born.”

“Damn. I’m sorry, Amanda.”

“Don’t apologize.”

“You need anything, let me know. I’ll give you my number.”

She smiled, but it was a very sad smile. “I’ll be okay. I should get back to work.”

“I’ll help you finish.”

She pushed herself up off the floor and looked down at him. “No, you’re going home. Looks like you forgot your keys. Besides, I’ll be done in an hour, tops.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Goodnight, Danny.” She leaned into the bin to get the wheels rolling. “Thank you for listening.”

And then she was gone again. Her and the bin of dirty laundry were probably halfway down the hall before he managed to stand up. His drive home was spent thinking about her standing in a doorway and watching her grandmother’s chest rise and fall in the dark. It made him feel strangely emotional and protective of her. She shouldn’t have to keep that vigil alone.

* * *

When they got back in town from two away games in California, he made sure to stay late, hoping to see Amanda. When a man in his fifties rolled the laundry bin into the locker room, Danny felt his stomach drop. The next day, he bought a paper at the newsstand a block down from his condo. It took him more than a few minutes to scan through the obituaries of every older woman in the Chicago area. None of them mentioned Amanda. The next day he repeated the process. The third day he found what he’d been looking for and hoping not to find. A short obituary for a woman named Bernadette Hanser, survived by Amanda Hanser.

The viewing was on a Wednesday morning with the funeral to follow. The skate was optional that morning, so instead of lacing up and working on his passing, he put on a suit and drove to a small family-owned funeral home in an older area of town. The viewing was sparse with just a handful of older folks milling around the room. A frail woman was laid out in the casket, her hair meticulously curled and hair-sprayed into place. Amanda was nowhere to be found, and Danny felt weird and stupid for going when they weren’t even friends.

He shoved his hands in this pockets and wandered into an adjoining room. At first he thought the room was empty, but it only took him a moment to notice her sitting in an armchair in the corner.

“I’m sorry about your grandma,” he said softly.

Amanda’s head jerked up, her sad eyes meeting his. She looked stunned to see him there. It made Danny feel even weirder and more awkward. “I... thanks.” She stood up, wrapping her arms around herself. “What... How...”

“I saw someone covering for you so I checked the obits. I just wanted to stop by and... give my condolences, for whatever it's worth. And to let you know that I’ve still got a shoulder.” He shrugged and suddenly felt shy in the wake of such a heavy situation.

Amanda slipped her gaze off the side. “Uh, thank you. That’s... I... I don’t know what to say.”

Danny pulled the receipt for parking out of his suit jacket and lifted a pen from the table by the door. “Here,” he said, jotting down his number. “Throw it away or use it or whatever. I just feel like you shouldn’t have to do this on your own.” Awkwardly, he shoved it toward her and watched with some satisfaction when she unwound her arms from around her midsection and tentatively accepted the slip of paper.

“Thanks, Danny. This... it means a lot. I feel like I’ve been through hell the past few weeks.” Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

“Use my number if you need to talk or just want to get your mind off things. I’m serious.”

She smiled that sad smile, but this time there was just a little hint of a glimmer in her eyes. “Okay.”

* * *

Danny was almost over the disappointment of not hearing from Amanda. Almost. It had been over two weeks since her grandmother’s funeral. He hadn’t stuck around for that, though. He wasn’t family or even a friend and the entire thing made him feel awkward. Part of him wondered why he even went and why he gave her his number in such a bumbling way. She probably thought he was a creepy loser.

He’d seen her in the halls a couple times, always pushing her cart, but he hadn’t said anything and she’d kept her gaze firmly away from his. It had bothered him at first, but days like today made it easier to forget all about that. Back when he’d first played for Chicago, WGN 720 had given him a radio show. He’d only done a couple, but the outlet had made him feel good. He’d had the chance to play and talk about music that he liked, and the feedback from listeners was gratifying. Almost as gratifying as an atta-boy from a hockey coach.

He’d just left a meeting with the folks at WGN who had invited him back. After the three year break, it was nice to be remembered and asked to return. He was definitely looking for something to fill some of his free time. He could bring along his laptop on road trips and use it to put together playlists and research the history of songs he wanted to introduce listeners to. Danny had never been one for school projects, but this was a project he could really sink his teeth into with pleasure.

Just as he unlocked his car and pulled open the door, his phone started vibrating in his pocket. The number on the display was unfamiliar, but he was in a good mood on this sunny and cold day so he slid his finger across the screen to accept the call.

“Hello?”

The line was silent long enough for him to repeat his greeting. Then someone said, “Um, hi. Is this Danny?”

“Yep,” he told the woman on the other end. Maybe it was WGN calling him back with possible dates for the next show already.

“This is Amanda.”

Danny dropped into the seat of his car, surprise rocking his mind. She was the last person he was expecting to call his phone.

“Um, you know, I wash the...”

“Yeah, I know who you are. How have you been?” He softly shut the door and leaned on the steering wheel. With his eyes closed, he could hear the nuances in her voice. She had a great voice--soft, but still strong. And she enunciated each word with care.

“Oh, well, you know. Getting by.”

He had no idea what to say to that, but he wanted to keep her on the phone. “Getting by is better than nothing.” As soon as it was out of his mouth he cringed.

“Yeah, I guess it is.” He could hear her pull in a deep breath and then exhale it slowly.

“Hey, you want to go grab a coffee or something one day. You sound like you got a lot on your mind.” He cringed again, squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

“No, you’re a busy guy. I was just calling to thank you. For... coming by the day of the funeral.”

“That was nothing. Are you sure you don’t want to grab a coffee? I’ve got nothing to do right now and someone to talk to would be nice.” Danny wasn’t quite sure why he was pushing the coffee. If she came or not didn’t make one bit of difference to him. Maybe he really was trying to be the white knight. Or maybe he just like the way she talked--no discernible accent, careful with her words, hidden depths to her that he could only imagine. Some girls you meet and you see them for who they are easily--all surface and shiny. Amanda wasn’t one of those girls, and that was intriguing.

“Right now?” She seemed surprised. That was good. He could work with surprised.

“I’m sitting in my car waiting for a destination. Tell me who has the best coffee in town.”

Silence stretched out for several long seconds before she finally said, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“I usually just go to this place around the corner from the house. Nothing fancy.”

“Text me the address, and I’ll come over now.”

“Danny, really. You don’t have to do this.” There was some lightness in her voice, some levity that gave him a thrill, though he wasn’t quite sure why.

“Text me.”

Another span of silence passed before she said, “Fine.”

* * *

The place looked like a dump, but that was probably just because it had been there for decades. The white paint around the doorframe was faded and peeling away. The glass case held a sparse selection of pastries that looked homemade and like they didn’t belong in his on-season diet. He skipped them and just ordered a cup of coffee from the older lady standing in front of a beat up register that had probably been top of the line in 1982.

There were a scattering of mismatched tables and chairs crunched into the small storefront. Amanda was sitting at the corner table for two with a white mug in front of her. She gave him a half smile when he walked in, but waited patiently for him as he paid for his coffee. The name of shop had probably been printed on the side of the mugs, but many washings had caused it to flake off with the exception of a few spots of black.

She was in a pair of faded jeans and a green sweater that brought out her eyes. Her blonde hair was down, but tucked behind her ears. And her face was devoid of makeup. Lip gloss was shiny on her lips and dark circles bloomed under her eyes. As he weaved his way around the tables, he wondered what the hell he was doing. She didn’t need some dumb hockey player pretending to be her therapist or savior or whoever he was trying to be to her. But it was too late to turn back now.

“You came,” she said with a small smile when he sat down. It looked genuine and crinkled up the corners of her eyes.

“Of course I did.” He looked down and saw her coffee was black. Plain. Like her. Except she wasn’t exactly plain. He wouldn’t keep trying to get in her line of sight if she was.

“Before you ask, I’m fine. I just... a distraction from my mind would be nice.”

“What do you want to talk about?”

She carefully lifted the mug to her lips and took a sip. Her pink lip gloss left a smudge behind. “You.”

Danny laughed softly. “Okay. Well, I just got some good news before you called me, and I haven’t told anyone yet.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“I played for the Blackhawks for a couple seasons before they traded me to the Kings.”

“I know,” she said before he could continue.

Danny raised his brows in question.

Amanda smiled again. “I live in Chicago. Of course I’m a fan of hockey.”

Her response surprised him. “Oh. You... just didn’t seem all that interested.”

“Sports kinda take a back seat when life throws you a curveball.”

He winced at his insensitivity. “Sorry.”

She shrugged. “It’s okay. You did a radio show when you were here, too. I caught the second episode way back when.”

Danny felt like his chest couldn’t puff up any more than it already was at that moment. “Yeah, wow. Wow. You heard that?”

“Yeah, yeah. It was good. It’s a shame you only did a couple.”

He smiled at her, glad he’d taken the time to plug in his partial dentures. His gap-toothed smile wasn’t as endearing as one would think when it came to women. Not that he was trying to impress her or anything. “Well, I’ve got good news for you. I just left WGN, and they want me to come back.”

Her smile was bigger this time. “That’s great. I bet you’re excited. When do you start?”

“They’re putting together a schedule. I actually think I might want to commit to more episodes. Give me something to do with my free time, especially out on the road.”

“Maybe make it once a week?” she asked, sipping at her coffee.

He’d completely forgotten about his once he saw her. He took a gulp and let the hot liquid wash over his taste buds. The familiar bitter nuttiness was comforting and better than he’d thought it would be in this dive of a coffee shop. “I wish. Our travel schedule throws a wrench in those plans. It might have to be here or there when I can work it in. Makes it hard to build up any kind of audience, though.”

She shrugged. “Podcasts are big now. Your people will find you.”

“My people?”

“Mmm, hmm. Vinyl heads. Music nerds. Although, you’re a weird one since those guys usually don’t get into fights on a weekly basis.”

Danny laughed. “Wait, wait, wait. You know more about me than I thought. This isn’t fair because I don’t know anything about you.”

“I’m boring,” she replied, her voice matter-of-fact.

“Somehow I don’t think that’s true.”

“It is. I mean, I do laundry for a living.”

He’d forgotten for a moment that she washed his dirty socks, towels, undershirts. Did she have to scrub out the blood from his jersey when he got in a fight? Or did they just toss those because they were a lost cause? The thought that she’d been on the fringe of his professional life since October was disconcerting and made him feel uncomfortable.

“That’s not who you are, though,” he finally said after another bracing sip from the mug.

“Sure it is. Part of it, at least. Hockey is part of who you are.”

“Do you like music?”

“Of course. Who doesn’t?”

Danny leaned his upper body across the table, resting his elbow on it and then letting his cheek fall into his open hand. “You know what I mean. I mean do you LIKE music?”

“I do.”

“Neil Young or Bob Dylan?”

“Dylan.”

“Pink Floyd or Led Zeppelin?”

“Pink Floyd.”

He hummed in thought, holding her gaze before she broke the connection to fiddle with her coffee cup. “Interesting,” he finally said.

“Was that a personality test?” she asked with a smirk.

“Of a sort. Paul McCartney or John Lennon.”

Amanda snorted. “Oh, please. McCartney. Hands down.”

“Elton John or Billy Joel.”

“Billy Joel by a large margin.”

Danny was having far more fun than he’d anticipated, and he couldn’t help but bait her. “So, what, like Uptown Girl Billy Joel?”

She rolled her gorgeous green eyes. “More than Anthony’s Song Billy Joel.”

He lifted himself up off the table and held his hands up, palms facing her. “Okay, okay. So you know your stuff.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I am. Okay, one more. It’ll be a hard one. I’m showing my hipster here. Ray LaMontagne or Damien Rice.”

Amanda scrunched her nose up, and Danny felt a flash of disappointment that she wasn’t familiar with more contemporary music that he liked.

“I don’t think that’s a fair comparison. I’d say Damien Rice or Glen Hansard would be more fitting. Both singer-songwriters from Ireland,” she replied.

It was only effort of will that kept his jaw from dropping. “Hansard,” he answered.

“Mmm, Rice,” she disagreed. “But close. Real close.”

They both laughed softly and sipped their coffees. Her eyes were focused out the window, watching the rare winter sun beat down on the street. His eyes were focused on her and the way she looked tired. Danny wondered if she was lonely without her grandmother. He wondered if she was getting enough sleep and if the Blackhawks gave her enough time off to grieve.

“I know we’re not talking about you, but how have you been the past couple weeks?” he finally asked, breaking the silence.

“It’s weird. The house seems empty, but I’ve been keeping busy. She named me executrix of her estate, so I’m paying off her debts and moving everything over to my name. Maybe it’s good that there is so much paperwork. I’m afraid to stop. If I stop then I have to think about it.”

“You’ll have to stop eventually.”

“Yeah. But not now.”

Danny nodded. “Fair enough. You ever need a distraction, I’m all for some conversation. We’ll continue this Rice versus Hansard debate. Which, by the way, I’m going to win.”

“Don’t count on it, Carcillo,” she shot back in a wry voice.

“So, you gonna come guest DJ with me one day?” he asked, trying to keep her from leaving even though she had finished her coffee, and it felt like she was working toward getting up to leave.

“No way. I’d be a mess.”

“You’ve got a nice voice. I bet you’d be amazing.”

Amanda rolled her eyes. “Flattery will get you nowhere. And I’d be a bumbling mess.”

“And you think I’m not?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I don’t remember your show that well, but I do remember thinking that you sounded like a natural. It was bizarre hearing the guy who drops his gloves every other night and is nicknamed Car Bomb sound so damn good on the radio.”

“You thought I’d be a thug then?”

She chuckled. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“I’m full of surprises.”

Amanda nodded. “Yes, you are.” She pushed herself up from the table and nodded at the clock on the far wall. “I have to be at work at four. You guys have a game tonight, and I assist with hanging your gear up.”

Danny stood up, sorry to see her go. “Hey, thanks.”

“For what?”

“For hanging shit up and for having coffee with me.”

“I should be thanking you,” she replied.

“For what?” he asked.

“Taking my mind off my life for a minute.”

“Anytime. Really. I mean that.” He watched her slip out the front door and get into a old, grey Nissan sedan that had seen better days.

“Refill?” the older lady behind the counter asked him when he turned back to the two empty mugs on the table.

“No thanks,” he said as he watched Amanda pull out into the traffic and drive away.

* * *

Danny was having a damn good day, and it was only ten o’clock in the morning. WGN had emailed him a list of possible dates for his first two shows. He told them he wanted this coming Friday night with a starting time of eleven for the first and the second would follow in a little over a week on Sunday night at ten. They were good spots, not too early or too late. Perfect for who he wanted to reach and fit nicely with his schedule.

The previous night he’d assisted in the game winning goal, and in an hour he was going to meet Amanda for lunch. She’d sent him a text the previous day and asked if his shoulder was available. They had practice this afternoon, but he didn’t hesitate to tell her that he’d meet her for lunch. She’d picked a place near the coffee shop and sent him the address. He wasn’t sure if she was doing better or worse than the last time he saw her about a week before. He hoped she was doing better.

Deciding on a pair of jeans and a shirt underneath a black hoodie, he left a few minutes early for the restaurant. It was brisk outside and the sky was cloudy. However, for a day in early February, it was surprisingly warm. Something about the jet stream, said the weatherman on the TV.

He got to the place before her. It was more fast food than sit-down restaurant, so he posted up at a booth by the door and waited for her. He saw her walk in ten minutes before eleven in a pair of jeans and a puffy jacket over her white sweater. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and she had swiped on lip gloss and mascara. Her lashes were long enough on their own. The mascara made her green eyes stand out even more.

Danny told her to sit down and he’d get their food. Not that this was a date or anything; he just wanted to help out in whatever way he could. If getting her a burger and fries made her feel less shitty, then he’d do it.

“You’re not one of those people who hates pickles, are you?” he asked when he sat the tray down on the table and slid into the booth across from her.

Amanda balked. “God, no. Pickles are the best part.”

“Exactly,” he replied with a smile. While she unwrapped her burger, he studied her face. The dark circles under her eyes were more pronounced. She’d look pretty if it weren’t for the drawn expression on her face.

“Did you get your next WGN show scheduled?” she asked, looking up at him.

Danny dropped his gaze and began unwrapping his burger, setting the fries on the edge of the wrapper to hold it down. “Yeah. This coming Friday, and then next Sunday. I need at least a week between shows to prepare.”

“That’s really great, Danny. I’ll have to listen.”

“I’ll dedicate a song to you if you do.”

“Well, then I’ll definitely have to.” She smiled at him and dumped her fries out next to her burger. Wondering if they were flirting or if this was just a friendly conversation was nagging at his mind. She hadn’t really shown any interest in him, and she wasn’t really his type. He liked brunettes with long legs, preferably in short skirts. She had no more than four inches on five feet and her hair was shorter than any woman he’d ever dated. Actually, she was nothing like anyone he’d ever been interested in. So, they were friends. Just friends.

“How are things?” he asked, watching her squeeze out a little pile of catsup next to the fries.

“Not great,” she answered after a moment.

“You look tired,” he replied, dropping his gaze down to his burger before taking a bite. It was a good burger, but he couldn’t taste much with her sitting across from him hurting like she was. He’d never been the sensitive guy, so this overwhelming sympathy was strange.

“Insomnia, I guess. It’s been a long week.”

“What went on this week?”

Amanda shrugged and ate two fries. “The usual. Work, home, work, home. I cleaned out her safety deposit box at the bank finally. I was... kinda afraid to do it. Didn’t know what she had in there.”

“What’d you find?”

“Some old coins, the deed to the house, three stock certificates that are probably worth about five grand.” She took a small bite out of her burger before placing it back down.

“You’re rich now,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.

She gave him a smile, but it wasn’t much. “Yeah. For a couple days I thought I’d keep them in her memory, but I need the cash. My transmission is acting up, and I need to have the car looked at.”

“It’s a shame we aren’t back in my hometown. My uncle is a mechanic, and I’m sure he’d have fixed it up for you.”

“You miss your family at all?” she asked.

Danny opened his mouth to respond and then remembered that she didn’t have any left. He chose his words more carefully. “Sure, I miss them all. But this is just a temporary thing--this job--so I’ll see them all again soon.”

“Temporary thing? I thought you were under contract.”

Danny shrugged. “Just for this year. Unless I morph into Toews’ clone, I don’t think they’ll offer me another.”

“Oh. That’s... that’s sad.” She dropped her eyes back down to the pile of fries.

“It’s the game,” he said. “How long have you been working for the Blackhawks?”

“Almost two years. When my grandma got sick, I was desperate for work. They had a job fair at the arena, and I went looking for something in my field. Instead, I got offered this.” She popped a couple fries into her mouth. “Don’t get me wrong, though; I’m grateful for it. It pays the bills.”

“What’s your field?”

“Computers. I’m a programmer.” She rolled her eyes in a self-deprecating manner. “I know, told you I was boring.”

“No, that’s cool. Why aren’t you doing that, then?”

“I couldn’t find work. I guess companies want someone with more experience. Maybe I’m just horrible at interviews,” she replied, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smile.

Danny was trying to reorganize his brain, fitting in these pieces of knowledge about her that he’d never known existed. They made her more intriguing. “You should keep looking. I mean, you wash towels really well. They always look fantastic when I sweat all over them. But you should probably be using your brains for software, not laundry.”

Amanda laughed softly and nodded. The humor made her eyes sparkle, and he felt proud that he’d brought some levity to her world. “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she replied. “As soon as I get my car fixed, I’ll work on the job hunt.”

They finished eating in silence. Danny thought that the silence was unusually comfortable. Normally when the lulls in conversation came around, he felt the need to interrupt them. With her, it was easy to let those spaces be and just enjoy having lunch with a friend. Assuming they were friends.

She didn’t eat much. Half her burger and just over half her fries went into the trashcan by the door. He’d never felt so much like his mother before, worrying that someone wasn’t eating enough. Worrying about whether she made herself dinner every night or if she fell asleep without. Danny shook his head in wonder and annoyance at himself.

“Thanks for lunch, Danny,” she said, walking over to her car.

His brain was running a thousand miles and hour. He still had an hour to kill before practice. What would keep her around? “It’s a nice day out,” he said lamely.

She nodded. “Yeah. Warmer than usual. Feels like, what, upper thirties?”

“Yeah. You wanna take a walk or something?”

She looked at him for a long moment, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. “Uh, sure. Yeah, why not?”

Danny shoved his hands into the pocket on the front of his hoodie and stepped up beside her. She fell in with him easily. They made their way down the sidewalk and turned the corner without discussion. The low heels of her boots made sharp clicks with each step. He kept glancing over at her profile, wondering what she was thinking, trying to think of a question to ask that would make her talk so he could understand her.

“I haven’t been able to clean out her bedroom yet,” she finally said after they’d gone a block.

“There’s no rush,” Danny replied.

“A week ago I had convinced myself that I was selling the house. I mean, how can I live there when she died there?”

“Are you going to? Sell it, I mean.”

Amanda sighed and pulled the band out of her hair. It fell over her shoulders and around her face, a bit messy, but still very beautiful. Brilliant, even in the gloomy light from the February sky. “I don’t know. I grew up in that house. I feel like it’s the only thing keeping me grounded right now. If I let it go, then I’ll just fly off into the air and lose myself.”

“Have you talked to someone about it?”

“Like a real estate agent? No, I haven’t gotten that far.”

“Like a friend. Just to get a different perspective,” he clarified.

She grimaced and looked away, training her eyes on the bare branches of the trees a few blocks ahead. “It’s been a long two years, and I haven’t been the best friend. When she got sick, I dropped everyone. I put everything into her and making her better. Plus, everyone I used to know is doing so well. They’ve got careers and families and mortgages and LIVES. I do laundry for a living, and I used to empty bedpans in my free time. It’s hard to fit in when your world is nothing like everyone else’s.”

Danny opened his mouth to refute her, but she was probably right. He couldn’t argue that he’d have handled it any differently than she had. Would her friends have been there to support her if she’d let them? Probably. Was it hard to ask for that support from someone who had no idea what your life was like? Definitely. His mind flashed back to holding her in the elevator and the way she trembled, her shoulders jumping in sobs that racked her body. His chest felt like it was burning. Heartburn or heartache, one or the other. Probably the latter.

“I hope you don’t think I’m throwing a pity party here. It’s just... how I’m feeling,” she said, breaking the silence.

“No, I don’t think that.”

She glanced over at him. Danny kept his gaze forward, but he could feel her scrutiny, the weight and depth of her as she ran her eyes over him, looking for who knew what. “Why are you...” she trailed off, then cleared her throat and tried again. “Why did you come to the viewing and give me your number?”

Danny lifted his shoulders noncommittally. He didn’t rightly know himself why he’d done those things. It just seemed like the thing to do. Finally, he said, “Because you looked like you needed a shoulder.”

“And you just go around offering yours?”

“No.” He glanced over at her and then away. “I’ve never done this before. You just seemed like you needed someone, and I was there and... Whatever, you know?”

She nodded slowly as they turned the corner like they had some telepathy or the ability to read each others bodies. No discussion of what intersections were to be crossed and which were to be avoided by a turn. “I hope you don’t think I’m weird when I tell you that you’ve been keeping me from losing my mind,” Amanda finally said.

“I haven’t done anything. Just coffee and lunch. That’s... nothing.”

“It’s everything. When I feel like I’m slipping, then I call you, and you pull me back into the real world.”

He felt a blush rising in his cheeks. Her words made him feel good about himself. So good that he could hardly bear it. “No way did that burger pull you back into the real world. You only had two or three bites of it.”

“Who knew Daniel Carcillo was a softy,” she teased.

“I am NOT a softy. I’m just trying to be a nice guy.”

She smiled at him, bigger than before and bumped his arm lightly with her shoulder. “You’re succeeding. Thank you for being you. But you really don’t have to carry on this charity case. I swear I’ll be okay.”

“You’re not a charity case. You like music so you’re one of my people.”

“I thought we established that everyone likes music,” she replied.

“But not everyone LIKES music like you do. Like I do.”

“True,” she conceded. If they turned the next corner then they’d be back in front of the burger joint and their cars. He wanted to go straight, but he knew with every cell of his body that she would turn right. “What time is your show this Friday?” she asked.

“Eleven. You plan on listening?”

They turned the corner, and she slowed her pace. “Of course.”

“Thanks for being my first listener.”

“But certainly not your only listener,” she added.

“I hope you’re right,” Danny replied with a smile. He walked her over to her beat up Nissan and watched her round the hood so she could unlock the driver’s door.

“Don’t worry so much; you’ll be a hit all over again.” She pulled open the door and gave him another genuine smile that made his stomach do strange, fluttery things. “Hey, thanks for lunch. It means a lot.”


	2. Chapter 2

Amanda had left all the pots and pans and her grandmother’s good dishes scattered across the kitchen floor earlier that day. She’d been going through everything, boxing up items to donate and tucking away items that she wanted to keep. She’d told herself it was because selling the house was still on the table and she’d need to pack if that happened. Really, it was just something to keep her busy, get her hands moving so her brain would stop. It had all backfired when she’d come across the teapot.

Her grandmother loved tea. No coffee for Mrs. Hanser, only black tea with one sugar. In the past few months when things had gotten bad and she’d spent more hours in the bed than out of it, the cast iron teapot had been relegated to a spot in the cupboard to the left of the fridge. There were a few other items there that weren’t used very often. Amanda had intended on making a clean sweep, pulling it all out and dropping everything into the donate box. Until she found the teapot and all those memories of Sunday morning tea with grandma came back. It had turned into tea and coffee when Amanda got older and discovered her love for the more highly caffeinated beverage, but the ritual remained the same.

The teary eyes at the memories had quickly turned into sobs which threatened to turn into a full on panic attack. So, she’d left everything strewn haphazardly across the floor and run out of the house in an old pair of leggings and a t-shirt. The bite of the cold pulled her back into reality as she’d stood outside sucking in breaths of air like she’d almost drown.

The rest of the afternoon had been spent scrubbing the baseboards and window sills in the living room, bathroom, and her bedroom. She hadn’t gotten up the nerve to go into the master bedroom just yet. If the teapot had reduced her to tears, then going through her grandmother’s closet would destroy her.

Once she finished and dumped the dirty water into the sink, she sat down on the sofa and stared out the picture window at the grey sky. The urge to call him flashed through her mind, but she avoided it, shoved it aside. Daniel Carcillo was not her personal teddy bear meant to scare away all the horrible things in her life. He was not her savior or her hero. He was just some guy who felt sorry for her because she didn’t have any friends or life. She felt like she was his community service project, even if he never made her feel that way when they were together. He made her feel like he cared. And that was dangerous because the more he made her feel that way, the more she wanted to call him and dump all her fears and stresses on him.

Maybe I should get a second job, she thought. If she worked more hours a week, then she’d have less time to think. The only problem was that finding one job had been hard enough; she had no idea how she was going to find another. And how was she going to properly look for a real job in programing if she was splitting her time between two jobs she didn’t want?

The digital clock on the cable box flickered over to five o’clock. Amanda sat on the couch for ten more minutes, watching the sky darken from twilight to night. It came so early this time of year. She had six more hours before his show aired. She’d just leave the teapot where it was and put everything else away. Maybe then she could make a can of soup for dinner.

After a long evening of carefully wrapping her grandmother’s good China, which they’d never used once in Amanda’s twenty-nine years, she managed to eat a sandwich and a can of beef stew. The radio in the living room was already tuned into the station that Danny would be on shortly. A man was talking in a smooth voice about the merits of Miles Davis and Thelonious Monk. She couldn’t appreciate what he was saying because she didn’t know much about jazz.

She bet Danny knew about it, though. Daniel Carcillo, the enforcer with a hard head and no original front teeth from too many pucks to the face and fights with fellow players. Daniel Carcillo, whom every Blackhawks fan hated until he’d signed a contract with the team back in 2011. She’d known about his reputation before he’d signed with them and assumed he was a thug. Amanda couldn’t think of anything else she’d been more wrong about in her life.

She settled on the sofa with a cup of camomile tea and stared at the radio on the shelf across the room. It was old, a big wooden box with a faded dial along the front. Her grandmother had never replaced it because it had never broken. Amanda had hated the thing when she’d been younger because all her friends’ parents had six-CD changers or surround sound in their living rooms. Now, she’d learned to appreciate it for being the classic that it was. And it was perfect that she’d be listening to Danny on it since he had that same classic air about him. Never trying too hard and yet still managing to come off like a genuine and interesting person.

The jarring guitar that had announced the beginning of his show over three years ago pulled her out of her thoughts and back into her grandmother’s living room. She smiled and settled in for the two hours he’d be on air. His voice was nice--soft and intimate and intelligent. If anything, he’d gotten more articulate than the first time he’d tried his hand at the radio. She felt strangely proud of him.

Unlike the more storytelling format of the first two shows back in 2011, this time it was primarily him introducing some of his favorite records and then allowing a song or two to play before coming back on air to express his enthusiasm. She felt like she was sitting there with him, listening to the songs he wanted her to hear. Amanda knew if she felt that way, then others did too. That was the reason why he had a talent and would excel at radio if he wanted to continue with it.

An hour into the show, he came back on air and said, “A friend of mine is going through a tough time right now. She lost her grandmother not too long ago. Sometimes I don’t know what to say because I’ve never been there, never lost someone so close to me. So, if I don’t know what to say, then I like to find a song that expresses what I wish I could.”

Amanda swallowed the lump that had developed in her throat and closed her eyes, letting his voice surround her. It was dangerous; she didn’t need to go any deeper into him, but the comfort he offered was just too tempting.

“Van Morrison’s Moondance was released in 1970 and was certainly ahead of its time. My personal favorite from this classic album is Into the Mystic, originally titled Into the Misty. On the surface, it’s the story of a sailor returning to his lover on land. But this is Van Morrison we’re talking about, and you know that isn’t the only layer to the song. I think if you look a little deeper you’ll find a spiritual message that speaks of living life, the inevitability of loss, and that gone isn’t truly gone. I hope you’re listening tonight and I hope this makes things easier, even if only for three and a half minutes.”

Tears were sliding down her cheeks from beneath her closed lids before the song even started. She’d heard it before, being a huge fan of Van Morrison and pretty much anything he released. However, she hadn’t heard the song in years. As it unfolded, she realized how healing it was. It was soulful without being sad or slow.

_When that foghorn blows, you know I will be coming home. And when that foghorn whistle blows, I got to hear it, I don’t have to fear it. I want to rock your gypsy soul just like way back in the days of old. And together we will float into the mystic._

Unable to open her eyes, Amanda bent over and pressed her forehead to her knees as she cried silent tears over the tender, beautiful lyrics. The song was perfect and, as it ended, she realized it was exactly what she needed to hear, even if it did make her heart ache.

There was a long moment of silence before Danny’s voice said, “In an interview, Van Morrison said the song is about being part of the universe. If that is what being part of the universe feels like, then it doesn’t seem so bad.”

The commercial break was jarring and abrupt. She wished Danny would have kept talking to her. To the audience, not just to her, she reminded herself. With a trembling hand, she finished her tepid tea and laid herself down on the sofa to listen to the second hour of his show.

* * *

She woke up on the sofa the next morning. Other than the stiffness in her neck, she felt better than she had in weeks. A full night’s rest had not been in the cards lately, and the fact that she had slept through the night was startling. She remembered Danny signing off and a folk music show beginning. She even remembered flicking the power button on the radio, but did not remember falling asleep. As scoured as her heart felt, it also somehow felt better. Tender, yet better. Whether that was his doing or just time having its way with her was to be determined.

Amanda brushed her teeth and looked at herself in the mirror for a long moment. She’d seen better days. Her cheeks were just a little hollow from not eating enough and the bags under her eyes could have held an ocean liner. Her skin was pale and pasty, even for wintertime. Quickly, she washed her face and rubbed a tinted moisturizer over her skin. A few swipes of mascara and some rosy lip balm made her look human, but not great.

As she ate a bowl of Cheerios for breakfast, she almost called him. It was a game day and he was likely on his way to morning skate. She didn’t want to be a pest, and she didn’t need to allow him the time and space to make her fall harder for him. He was certainly out of her league and interested in nothing more than helping her get through her grandmother’s death like she was a charity case or a pet project. Getting all wrapped up in Daniel Carcillo would be a mistake of the greatest magnitude.

Before work, she finished cleaning out the kitchen and even started going through the boxes on the top shelf of her grandmother’s closet. There were old trinkets in hat boxes, things that meant very little to Amanda because they’d been hidden away for most of her life. It was the easiest place in the room to start. The more accessible places held deep memories, ones she wasn’t prepared to deal with yet. After wiping down the empty shelf, Amanda went to the grocery store and filled the fridge with enough food to get her through the coming week. She needed to start eating dinner instead of slurping up a bowl of soup before she tried to force herself into unconsciousness.

By the time she got to the arena, she was feeling accomplished and less like the open wound she’d been walking around as for the past few weeks. She carefully hung the jerseys up in their places around the room, saving Danny’s for last. To his she carefully pinned an envelope that she’d been carrying around in the pocket of her cardigan. It was just a simple thank you note with two caramel creams in it. At some point during the second hour of his show, he’d confessed to loving caramel cream candies. She’d seen them at the market and bought a bag while thinking about him.

She gently straightened his jersey, running her fingertips down the front of it, before she slipped out of the locker room to place the stash of towels out on the benches and also in the penalty boxes. The arena always seemed strange when it was empty; she still hadn’t gotten used to it. The coaching staff was huddled around a conference table just off the head coach’s office, and the players were starting to arrive as Amanda finished up her pre-game tasks. She retreated to the employee lounge to wait for the first period to start before she went back into the locker room to tidy up and place towels in each of their spots in anticipation of the first intermission.

* * *

_Danny, thank you so much for the song last night. You were fantastic. Congrats on the first of what will hopefully be many shows. Amanda_

He folded the note back up and tucked it away in the envelope, which was promptly tucked away in his gym bag at the bottom of his locker. The room was raucous with more than a dozen conversations going on before the game. He popped one of the caramel creams into his mouth before he began to put his gear on. Her handwriting was elegant, yet simple. The candy tasted better than it ever had before. Maybe that’s because the note made his chest swell out in pride, made him feel bigger than he’d felt in a long time.

He ate the other candy after he’d laced up his skates, letting the crumbly cream dot in the middle melt on his tongue before he bit into the chewy caramel surrounding it. He felt prepared for the game, ready to get out there and fly across the ice, make them see that he deserved a contract extension into the next season. And if he didn’t get it, then he’d find something else. It was a rare moment of clarity driven by a simple note from a woman he barely knew.

“What was the love note on your jersey?” Sharpie asked.

Danny smiled. “Just a thank you note from a friend.”

“The magnanimous Car Bomb, eh?”

“Seems like,” Danny agreed.

The game went quickly. After he’d showered and tossed all his dirty gear into the laundry bag, he placed the bag in the bottom of the nearly empty bin. He’d been doing that since he’d realized who had to clean up after him when he didn’t put the laundry where it belonged.

Danny waited patiently while all the guys left in groups of two to five. Some of them drove in together each night. Some of them just walked out to their cars together. Toews was the last to leave tonight, and he gave a little salute before he walked out the door.

Danny sat on the bench in front of his locker and waited a little longer, hoping she’d come through the door. Why he felt he needed to see her was beyond him; he just knew that he wouldn’t feel right going home without talking to her first. Ten minutes after Toews left, the door swung open. Danny opened his eyes and saw her standing in the doorway.

“Hi,” she said.

“Thanks for the candy and the note,” he said, brushing lint off his dress pants.

“Thanks for the song,” she replied before stepping into the room and tossing the bags into the bin two at a time.

Danny got up and helped her. “Did you really like the show?” he asked.

She stopped working for a moment and gave him a look that told him he should know better than to ask twice. “Of course I did. I’m sure you got a ton of good feedback.”

“Yeah, everybody on Twitter who listened said they were looking forward to next Sunday.”

“See, you’re a natural. The next Casey Kasem.”

He shook his head. “You look like you got some sleep last night.”

“I did. For the first time in weeks.”

Danny let out a soft chuckle. “I must have bored you into it.”

“Not at all, Mr. Self Deprecation.”

He just smiled and dropped the last of the towels into the bin. “I hope you get some rest tonight.”

“I’ll try. Have a good night, Danny.”

“Yeah, you too.”

* * *

He’d seen her a few times in the hall. She was good at making herself seem invisible. The way she slipped into and out of a room went unnoticed by pretty much everyone but Danny.

“You know the laundry girl?” he asked Seabrook. They were both lying in separate beds in a hotel in Calgary, waiting for the bus to take them to the arena.

“Who?”

“The blonde girl who takes the laundry in between periods and after the game.”

Seabrook shook his head. “Nope. Never seen her.”

Danny felt slight irritation at his teammate. “Her grandmother died a few weeks back.”

“That’s tough.”

“Yeah,” he replied.

While they waited for the clock to tick over to five so they could leave, he fiddled with his phone. Within only a couple minutes, he had opened his messenger icon and texted Amanda.

Danny: How is today going?

Less than a minute later he had a reply from her.

Amanda: It could be better

Danny: What’s up?

Amanda: Thought I was capable of going through her clothes. I’m not capable

He began to type a response, but deleted the letters and pushed himself off the bed. “I’m gonna head outside. See you on the bus,” he told Seabrook.

After he walked out of the lobby and around to the side of the hotel, he dialed her number. “Hello?” she answered.

“Wanna talk?” he asked.

“Depends on what about,” she replied softly. Danny closed his eyes so he could concentrate on her voice.

“Anything. Whatever.”

“Are you excited for the next show on Sunday?” she asked.

He smiled. “Yeah. I am. I’m taking requests. Got anything in mind?”

“Oh, it’s a call-in show now?”

“No, requests can only come from those vetted by yours truly.”

She snorted. “I’ve been vetted?”

“Oh, yeah. If you had said Lennon over McCartney, then I would have kicked you to the curb.”

“That’s an unpopular opinion, buddy. Lennon is the darling of everyone and their mother.”

“Overrated for sure,” Danny replied, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

“I always loved McCartney’s Back to the Egg. What was it? From 1978 or 1979? Everyone looks at me like I’m crazy when I say it’s one of my favorites.”

“Yeah, it was a Wings album from around then.”

“After the Ball was a good one from that record. Such a sweet song. Makes me sad all over again that his first wife died, and his second wife was a bitch.”

Danny let out a sharp bark of laughter. “A bitch?”

She laughed. “I just got the impression she was a meanie. A little too fame-hungry if you ask me. Also, you are so excellent at distracting me from my life. It’s disconcerting.”

“It’s a gift,” Danny agreed. “But in all honesty, you’re easy to get off on tangents.”

“You got a game tonight?”

He leaned back into the brick wall behind him. “Yeah. Leaving in about ten.”

“Good luck and don’t get into any fights, you scrapper.”

“I can’t make any promises,” he replied. “But I’ll try to behave myself.”

“Good.”

“Talk to you later?” Danny asked.

“Later.”

* * *

It was the first Friday night he’d had off in what seemed like months. Danny had a list of songs written in his messy scrawl on a sheet on notebook paper. He was adding notes next to each song, just little phrases or words to remind him of what he wanted to say about the song, pieces of history that he’d found while researching over the past week. He hadn’t talked to Amanda since Tuesday when they’d had the phone conversation. His willpower was the only thing keeping him from dialing her number.

Like she had some sort of sixth sense about his state of mind, his phone started ringing. Her name popped up across the top of the display.

“Hey, I was thinking about you,” he said when he accepted the call.

“Oh yeah?” she asked. Her voice was thick, unlike her usual self.

“You okay?”

Instead of an answer, he got a sniff and a shaky sigh. “Not really,” she finally said.

“You try the closet again?”

“Yep.”

“Too much?”

“Yep.”

“Want to help me figure out what songs I should add to my playlist for Sunday?”

After a couple beats of silence, she said, “Okay.”

“Are you going to give me your address so I can come over?”

Amanda gave a nervous laugh, muffled by her tears. “Umm, you don’t want to come over here. I’m the definition of a hot mess.”

“Text me your address,” he insisted.

“Danny, really.”

“Really, send it to me.”

She sighed and then followed it with a sniff. “Fine. But I warned you. I don’t know why you want to come over here.”

“Because I need help with this playlist and you need someone to try on your grandmother’s dresses so you can decide which ones to keep.”

She laughed hard enough that it took her a moment to catch her breath. “The thought of you in her dresses...”

“I know. Pretty sexy,” he said with a grin.

“Oh yeah, I’m hot just thinking about it.” There was that wry sense of humor of hers that he couldn’t get out of his head.

“See you in a few,” he said before hanging up and trusting her to text him his destination. In the meantime, he tossed his laptop and a small bluetooth tower speaker into a messenger bag with the notebook paper and a pen.

* * *

Amanda didn’t know why she felt nervous, and she definitely didn’t know why she was pulling on a pair of jeans instead of keeping the sweatpants on. Well, she knew why, but she wasn’t willing to admit that she was worried about what Daniel Carcillo thought of her. Instead, she ran a brush through her hair, swiped on her favorite mascara, and applied some stain to her lips to give them color.

Unable to play it cool, she sat in the armchair by the living room window and watched the street in front of the house, lights out so he couldn’t see her being a creep. It was a one-story ranch-style home built in the 1950s and lovingly tended by Bernadette Hanser. And now Amanda was doing her best to keep the floors swept and the counters clean. In reality, she just wanted to come home and fall apart, forget about all those have-to-dos and crawl under the blanket on her bed.

A slick, black car rolled by slowly before backing up and pulling into the narrow driveway just behind her Nissan. His car put hers to shame. It looked like a classic that had been redone from the top down. She caught a glimpse of him in the overhead light of the car when he pushed the door open and levered himself out. He looked really good with the faint five o’clock shadow dusting his jawline and creeping up onto his cheeks. Ducking back inside, he pulled out a canvas messenger bag and then shut the door.

“What the hell am I doing?” Amanda asked herself as she flipped on the lamp by the sofa and met him at the door.

Danny smiled at her when she pulled open the bright red door and invited him in with a smile of her own which was mostly forced. He was in his jeans and T-shirt with a flannel on over it to cover his arms. Casual and comfortable, the guy that doesn’t try too hard but always manages to be the coolest person in the room. She’d never really paid much attention to him until he’d started paying attention to her. Now all she could think about was his boyish face and the way his hair tended to flop over into his eyes.

“Nice place,” Danny said, putting his bag down on the sofa and turning around in a circle to take in the living room. It was comfortable and warm--soft lighting and a plush brown couch that went well with the oak end tables.

“I take no credit. This was all my grandma.”

“I like it. Feels homey. I’ve been from Chicago to LA to New York and then back here in the past three or four years, so homey feels good.”

“Do you want the grand tour?”

Danny gave her a look that told her it was a silly question. “Of course I do,” he said.

Amanda threw her hand out to the left. “The kitchen is through there. And a little breakfast nook that my grandma had my grandpa add right after they got married.” After Danny had taken a look, his dark eyes assessing the room, she moved further into the house. “Here’s the dining room just off the living room. And down this hall are two bedrooms and the bathroom.”

He trailed behind her, peeking into the first door to look at the small bathroom. Amanda tried to disconnect all the memories of growing up in the house and see it through his eyes. It was nearly impossible.

“This is her room,” she said softly, touching the doorframe of the dark room on her left.

“Would it bother you if I went inside?” he asked.

His question surprised her. She hadn’t expected him to take any sort of interest. “Oh, uh, no. No, you can go in.” She flipped the light switch which controlled the floor lamp and the small bedside lamp with hand-painted lilies adorning the rough wooden base.

Danny entered with soft steps, his hands in the pockets of his jeans and his shoulders still hunched up to his ears like he hadn’t quite warmed up from being outside in the cold. The room was just the way it had been when she’d passed away. During the first day without her, Amanda had numbly pulled off the sheets and made the bed with a fresh set, but that was the extent of it. That and cleaning out the hat boxes in the top of the closet. The empty bedpan still sat on a chair by the bed and it made Amanda cringe.

“She liked flowers,” Danny said, turning around to look at her.

Amanda opened her mouth but nothing came out. He didn’t see the crumpled tissues on the nightstand, the bedpan on the chair, the heating pad lodged between the nightstand and the mattress, or the line of prescription pill bottles on the dresser. They were still mostly full. Bernadette Hanser hadn’t lived long enough to make use of all the multicolored pills that were supposed to fix this or that. All he saw were the flowers on the lamps and etched around the edges of the dresser mirror and filling the frames of the canvas paintings on the wall. He saw the good, not the bad. Amanda’s throat had closed up. “Ye---yes.” She struggled to say more, but nothing would come out. Instead, she backed out of the room and took two steps across the hall to her own bedroom.

It was the master bedroom, but when she’d turned thirteen, her grandmother had made a big fuss out of giving her the bigger room since she was growing up. The lamp by the bed was on, but it didn’t provide much illumination. Amanda stopped just inside the door and braced a hand on a squat bookcase.

“I’m sorry if I said something.” His voice was soft and caring and everything she needed but didn’t want. He’d already pulled her in too deep for her to think of him in a rational way. He was her only source of comfort and that was dangerous.

Amanda shook her head and used the knuckle of her index finger to carefully wipe away the tears without ruining her mascara. God forbid she mess up that; it was the only thing she had going for her. “No, I’m sorry. You caught me off guard.”

“Sorry,” he sounded sheepish and sincere.

“She did love flowers. I used to hate it as a kid. The curtains had floral patterns that I thought were so tacky. When I got older I accepted it because she loved it and that was enough for me.”

Danny stepped around her and into her bedroom. She didn’t want him in here in her space. She already felt naked enough in front of him.

“I see the bad shit in there. The pill bottles and bedpan. It just caught me off guard that you saw the flowers.”

“Well, they’re kind of everywhere,” he said with a gentle, sweet smile.

A sob mixed with a bark of laughter escaped Amanda’s throat. She brushed away the wetness on her cheeks. “Yeah, they kind of are.”

“So, this is your room?” he asked, walking around the bed, looking at the self help book on the nightstand. She’d bought it three weeks ago, but hadn’t read more than the first chapter on the death of a loved one. It felt sterile and very one-size-fits-all. It made her feel worse than just suffering through the loneliness.

“This is my room,” she agreed.

“Hmmm,” he said, pulling his hands out of his pockets and slowly walking back around the bed. She watched his eyes sweep over everything of hers. The little owl figurines that she’d collected when she was sixteen. The beat-up and much-loved paperback books she’d been unable to part with. The satin nightgown she hadn’t worn in over a year displayed on a hanger over the closet door. The half-empty glass of water by the bed.

She almost asked him to leave because it was too much. He knew so much already, and now she was laid out for him to see.

“So, this is your underwear drawer?” he asked, using one finger to slide the top drawer of her chest of drawers open.

Without even thinking, she reacted, jumping forward and grabbing his arm. “Danny!” she exclaimed.

He immediately let go of the handle and turned to face her, his lips turned up in a devilish grin and mischief in his eyes. “Am I right?”

Amanda released his arm and pushed the drawer closed. “No comment,” she replied, hating that a blush was staining her cheeks. However, with the way he was grinning at her, she couldn’t help but laugh softly.

“Got you,” he said, walking around her.

“Got me?” she asked, following him down the hall and into the living room.

“Made you laugh.” He turned to look at her and then flopped down right on the middle cushion of the couch like he owned the place. If he was going to continue to be so sweet and such an amazing distraction to the shambles of her life, then Amanda was willing to let him think that he did.

“You’re a brat,” she told him, but the smile playing at her lips probably negated the harsh words.

Instead of sparing with her, he pulled a sheet of paper out of his bag and waved it in the air. “Come on. We’ve got work to do.”

Amanda folded one leg under her as she sat down beside him, pressing her back against the arm of the sofa so she could angle herself to face him. “What am I working with here?” she asked, taking the sheet from him.

“It’s all fluid. That’s the rough draft I’ve been working on, though,” he told her. While she glanced over his list, he sat the speaker on the coffee table and opened up his laptop to iTunes. The list in her hand had been recreated there on the screen.

“You put After the Ball on here,” she said.

“Yeah, it’s a good one. One that a lot of people have never heard. I’m glad you mentioned it to me.”

“What’s the speaker?” she asked, trying to play it cool while his thigh was touching her leg. The man took up so much space that she couldn’t avoid it.

“Have you ever seen the movie I Love You Man?”

Amanda immediately knew what he was referring to. She threw her head back and laughed. “The scene where Paul Rudd is trying to play a Rush song to introduce his girlfriend to the band.”

Danny chuckled. “Yeah, and he’s building it up and up, telling her how it’s going to be the best rock music she’s ever heard.”

“And then it comes out of the tiny speakers on his computer and sounds awful,” she finished, giggling.

“That’s one of my favorite scenes ever.”

She nodded. “That’s a good movie.”

“So you’re coming over the next time I have a day off, and we’re going to watch it, right?”

Amanda shifted, unsure how to take him. She still felt like she was his charity case, like he’d decided she was his responsibility. “You don’t have to do that,” she told him.

“Do what?”

“Worry about me and make up reasons to check on me,” she said.

Danny gave her a funny look, his brows furrowed in what looked like confusion. “I’m not making up reasons.”

“I mean, I just feel like you think you need to take care of me.”

“Looks like you’re taking care of yourself,” he said, shifting his gaze away.

Amanda swallowed and softly said, “Barely.”

“Maybe I like talking to you,” he muttered, switching the order of two songs on the playlist and then switching them back.

If she didn’t know better, she’d have thought his feelings were hurt. Except, nobody could hurt Daniel Carcillo’s feelings. He was a force to be reckoned with and didn’t seem to let anything anything get to him. “This James Bay song is amazing. I’m glad you’re mixing in some contemporary stuff,” she said, ignoring the tension.

Just like she’d thought, he let the previous moment roll off his back. “I went back and forth between that one and Let It Go. But this one hasn’t got much play so I felt like it was something new I could bring to the table.”

“This looks great, Danny. I’m not sure what I could do to make it better. I mean, you’ve touched on different genres, different decades.”

“I was looking for something Motown-y, but didn’t want to fall back on the same old like The Tempts of the The Four Tops.”

“David Ruffin?” she asked.

Danny gave a noncommittal shrug. “Never liked his solo stuff as much as his work with The Temptations. And I want something unusual. You know?”

Amanda shifted again, her leg brushing against his as she settled into the cushion. “Hmmmm,” she hummed.

“Come on,” Danny said with a boyish grin. “Pull something amazing out of that head of yours. Something that will blow my socks off.”

“Have you heard that terrible Kanye West song?”

“Which one?” he asked with a laugh.

“Hell, I don’t know the name of it. The one with Kim Kardashian in the video.”

“Bound?”

“Yes,” she exclaimed. “Bound 2. It’s god awful for sure, but after I heard it I went looking for the track he sampled. I mean, he’s definitely got an ear for songs that he samples.

Danny shook his head. “What’s the song?”

“It’s actually just called Bound, and it’s by these kids from Cleveland called The Ponderosa Twins Plus One.”

She watched as he leaned forward and let his fingers fly across the keyboard. Within a few seconds, he’d downloaded the song and started it. The little speaker he’d brought with him sounded surprisingly good.

It had the early seventies sound to it with a Jackson 5 feel. The harmonies were amazing, but the vocals were sung by kids that hadn’t yet gone through puberty. Amanda couldn’t help but nod her head to the beat as they sang about the inevitability of love.

Halfway through the song, Danny leaned forward and added it to the playlist for the radio show. “Wow,” he said over the music.

Amanda just smiled and nodded. It had become one of her favorites, a secret gem. She was glad Danny liked it, though she wasn’t really surprised. He had a good ear. Or at least he had similar taste that she could appreciate.

The song faded out, and Danny sat back, laying his arm on the back of the sofa. He was firmly in her personal space, and Amanda was nervous, uncomfortable, and wishing he would slide his arm down and around her. “Did that fit the bill?” she asked.

“And then some. It was exactly what I wanted.” He shifted and leaned forward. “But now I gotta listen to that Kanye West song again.”

She grimaced. “It’s so bad.”

“I know you’re not supposed to make fun of people, but it’s okay if you’re making fun of Kanye,” Danny said when the video started playing on YouTube.

For the most part, it involved Kanye and Kim Kardashian in front of a green screen on a motorcycle. At one of the more ridiculous moments, Amanda leaned forward and dropped her forehead onto Danny’s shoulder as she laughed. It was a deep laugh that came from her belly, and it felt so good to let go. Danny’s lips brushing against the crown of her head startled her. He was probably just laughing with her and accidentally touched her hair with his mouth now that she was so close to him. Part of her wished it was more than that, though. She hadn’t been on a date in over two years and Danny gave her butterflies in her stomach.

* * *

He’d kissed her head. Not really on purpose; it had just seemed natural. She was curled up beside him on the sofa, her forehead pressed against his shoulder while she laughed at the ridiculous music video playing on his laptop. It had been easy to turn his head and inhale the scent of her shampoo while he pressed his smiling lips to the crown of her head.

Danny wasn’t sure if she realized what he’d done, but she didn’t pull back or smack him across the face. He wanted to drop his arm off the back of the sofa and around her shoulders, but that might be too much. She’d called him because she was having a bad evening, and he shouldn’t take advantage. Plus, this wasn’t a date; this was just two friends hanging out. That was something he kept telling himself when he was around her.

Her grandmother’s house was comfortable and reminded him of home. He was at ease with Amanda, which made him that much happier to be right where he was. Who knew he could find that at-home feel almost a thousand miles from where he grew up with a woman he barely knew.

By the time the video ended, she had sobered up and was back to sitting next to him, one leg tucked underneath her and her body facing him.

“When did you figure out you loved music so much?” he asked her.

She looked beautiful right then, and it was a shock to him. Her green eyes were warm and sparkling, her hair was just a little bit messy, and her lips were parted in a smile. She licked them with a pink tongue and shifted her eyes to the side in thought. “When I was young--eleven, twelve maybe.”

“Yeah?” he prompted, hoping she’d keep talking in that voice. Soft, yet strong and clear.

“My grandmother bought me a Discman. You know, the portable CD players that Sony made?”

Danny nodded.

“I had a case that held twenty five CDs in their jewel cases. You just slid the cases into the holders in the bag and zipped it up. I’d put sixteen CDs in and use the extra space for the Disc man and headphones.” Amanda shook her head and smiled. “Oh, and every Saturday we’d go shopping and she’d buy me one CD if I did all the laundry and dishes for the week. I’d tote that damn case with me everywhere, but on Saturdays I would leave an open spot for the new CD she’d buy me.”

The story said so much about her. He wondered if she knew how much she’d given him in those few sentences and how much he was quickly becoming obsessed with every little thing about her.

“I just downloaded shit off Napster,” he confessed with a grin.

Amanda laughed softly. “Oh man, I did too. Right around that time is when I went through my emo phase. The Get Up Kids and Dashboard Confessional and Alkaline Trio. I pirated all those albums. I’d sit in my car during breaks at the grocery store I was working at and think that those songs were going to set me free.”

He wanted to kiss her for every little thing she’d said and for the love of music she shared with him. “I did that, too. I remember sitting in the beat up Subaru my parents bought me for my seventeenth birthday.”

“With the aftermarket CD player?”

Danny laughed. “Yeah, yeah. The whack aftermarket stereo that didn’t quite fit into the dashboard right. But it was great because it had a CD player. I was into Zeppelin pretty heavy at the time so I’d just have their second album on repeat all day, every day.”

“I am most definitely more of a Pink Floyd girl, but Zeppelin’s Ramble On? Wow. That’s a masterpiece.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied, resting his head on the back of the couch and turning it toward her. Maybe he could will time to go slower so he could stay right there on the comfortable sofa in the little house with her.

“Did you always want to be a hockey player?” she asked, pressing her cheek against the back of the couch. Their faces were only a foot apart.

“Since I could skate, yeah. I loved being out there on the ice. And I was good at it so it gave me confidence and taught me a lot of lessons. Did you always want to be a computer programmer?”

Amanda laughed softly. “No way. I wanted to be an investment banker.”

Danny raised his brows in question.

She rolled her eyes. “Ha ha, kidding. I don’t know what I wanted to be. I guess I thought I’d figure it out when I graduated. And then I got to college and they asked me what my major was and I liked computers so, there you go.”

“Did you learn to love it?”

“Of a sort, I guess. I enjoyed it and was good at it, and I’ve always been pretty pragmatic. The percentage of people who make a good living at what they love is pretty low. I mean, not everyone can be Daniel Carcillo.”

Danny scoffed. “Well, I don’t get to do what I love for the rest of my working life.”

“Don’t tell me you’re thinking of retiring.”

He shrugged and lifted his hips up so he could settle further into the coach. The lamp cast a soft glow around them and talking to her was nicer than he’d thought possible. “I’ll probably be forced into it soon. Might get a one-year contract for next season, but unless my game changes dramatically, that’ll be in the end of the line.”

Amanda pushed her lower lip out in a cute pout. It made him want to lean in and kiss her. “That sucks, Danny. You’re still amazing. Your energy is crazy. Are you upset about it or have you come to terms with it?”

“I guess I’m coming to terms with it. Or at least accepted it. Just worried about what’s next. If I had been more careful with my money, then I probably could have retired or done part-time projects. But I wasn’t, so now I need to figure out what career number two is.”

“Is going back to school something you’d want to do?” she asked.

Danny scrunched up his nose. “Not really. Never liked it much.” And then he cringed when he thought that she might think he was less because he didn’t like education.

“You’re one of those independent learners who doesn’t like to be tied down to a formal class.”

He smiled, thinking that kissing her was sounding better and better. “Yeah, that’s what I am.”

“What about this, then?” she asked, holding up the paper with the playlist that had been sitting in her lap.

“What about that?”

“What about radio? You’ve got no ties to any one particular place, and there are thousands of radio stations out there. I’m sure one of them would love to have you host a show for all those vinyl heads out there. I’d listen.”

Danny opened his mouth to say he wanted to stay in Chicago, but snapped it shut when he realized that was because she was in Chicago. All these years he’d happily shuffled from here to there and back again, leaving behind women he’d dated without so much as a blink. And here he was, attached to a city for a woman, but he didn’t even have the woman, wasn’t even sure if there was anything more than friendship there. But if this is what friendship with her was like, then that alone would be worth staying for.

“I never really thought about radio as a career. That’s my passion.”

“Well, you succeeded at parlaying one passion into a career. What makes you think you can’t have the other?”

Her confidence in him was intoxicating. “No one is that lucky.”

She smiled sweetly at him. “But you’re that talented. Danny, your radio show is really good. Your voice pulls the listener in. That’s a gift.”

“You’re gonna make be blush,” he replied.

She chuckled. “Never did I think I’d see the day when I made Daniel Carcillo blush.”

“For real, though, I never considered radio as an option until you said it just now.”

“You like the idea,” she told him. It was a statement, like she already knew him well enough.

“Yeah, I do. A lot.” Danny ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back away from his face. “I’ve been pretty stressed out about life after the NHL.”

“Well I’d hire you if I had a radio station. Why don’t you ask WGN about it, see if they’re interested?” She paused and then said, “It’d be nice if you stuck around Chicago. I mean, we could grab lunch sometimes and catch up.”

“Lunch sometimes?” he asked. “Oh, no, you’re my sounding board for these shows. We need to have regularly scheduled meetings to discuss song selection.”

Amanda laughed softly. “Okay, I’m good with that.”

“Good.” Danny leaned forward and hit the play button, setting the list of songs for Sunday’s show to playing with the sound turned low. It was just in the background as they sat side-by-side on the couch. Finally, Danny said, “You miss her?”

After a long moment, Amanda replied with, “Yes. A million times yes.”

“She sounded like a great lady. I mean, she raised you and let you be who you wanted to be. That’s awesome.”

When she didn’t respond, he looked over at her. A tear ran down her cheek and there were others glistening in her eyes. “You’re right. She was a great lady.”

Without thinking, Danny brushed away a tear with the pad of his thumb. Her lips parted in what looked like surprise. “Sorry I made you cry again.”

Amanda shook her head. “No, that’s not your fault. I’ve been a wreck lately. Everything makes me cry. Her teapot, her floppy gardening hat, the awful perfume she she used to wear.”

“Is it getting any better?”

“Some days are better than others. The worst part is I don’t know what to do with myself half the time. When I wasn’t working, I was helping her. Keeping the house clean, cooking, caring for her, bringing her medicine and glasses of water, emptying the bedpan, restocking the Kleenex box, taking her to doctor’s appointments. All of that. Now there’s just me and... time.”

“I never thought about that,” Danny admitted.

“Some days I blame myself for failing to keep her alive. I know that’s stupid and crazy, but it’s hard to shake the feeling when it gets in my head. And other days I’m relieved that it’s over and I don’t have to watch her die a little bit more each day. And then I’m sick with guilt that I’m relieved.” She brushed away more tears and gave a bitter laugh. “Wow, you totally don’t need to be saddled with all my emotional hang ups. You just wanted to come over to go over your playlist. Sorry.”

“I came over for you,” he told her.

“Danny, really,” she said, sniffing.

He felt helpless, his heart aching for her. The struggle to find her place after her grandmother died was obvious to see. “I did. Come to see you, I mean. I don’t want you to be sad.”

“Trust me when I say that you’re the only person who has made me laugh since...”

Just then, the James Bay song that had been playing switched over Toto’s Hold the Line. The keyboard and guitar were unmistakable and stood out, even with the volume down.

“Oh man,” Amanda said, breaking off her last thought about him making her laugh. “This song is so ridiculous, but I love it.”

Danny grinned at her and nodded his head to the beat. After a moment, she started nodding her head and gave him a small smile, just the barest lift at the corners of her lips.

Hoping to make her laugh again, he starting clapping along, mouthing the lyrics as they were sung and furrowing his brow like he was angry or just really into the music. “You’re ridiculous,” she told him with a soft laugh.

It was a game to him now, trying to make her smile, make her happy. He pressed down on the volume and turned it up until the music filled the room. She was smiling wide enough to flash him her perfect, white teeth. Danny jumped up during the guitar solo in the middle of the song and played the worst air guitar in the history of the world in the middle of her living room.

“You are too much,” she yelled over the music.

Instead of responding, he resumed lip syncing to the lyrics, banging his head back and forth. She was sitting there on the end of the sofa with her hand pressed over her mouth and her shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. Her beautiful green eyes were shining as they watched him make a fool of himself. And it was all worth it if it made her forget about everything that made her sad.

As the song was wrapping up, she leaned forward and reached out to snag his hand. He felt her fingers curl around him so she could pull him closer. “Sit down, rock star.”

He plopped down beside her, closer than he’d been before, their thighs touching. “Made you laugh again,” he told her.

She tilted her head and laid it on his shoulder. “Yes, you did.”

Danny felt his heart swell up. The sensation was unusual and a bit disconcerting. He wasn’t sure how to handle it or if it was a good thing. It felt like the beginning of something perilous.


	3. Chapter 3

It had taken every ounce of Amanda’s will power not to call or text Danny on Saturday. Instead, she’d spent most of the day looking for and sending in her resume for jobs she’d probably never get. It was something to do, though. Something productive and better than lying in bed on a day off. She’d done that too much lately. After applying for the jobs, she went on a walk around the block which turned into a four mile trek around the neighborhood. Her hands and nose were cold and red when she finally got home and knocked off the snow that had packed into the treads of her boots.

Sunday was easier because she had to be at the arena for the afternoon home game. Leaving a note for Danny was tempting, but she didn’t want to seem desperate for his attention. Instead, she left him a caramel cream on the middle shelf of his locker. As always, she made herself scarce while the guys were in the locker room. They had won the game in a shootout, and the room was filled with cameras and microphones and reporters. She waited in the small lounge down the hall until most everyone had cleared out.

Just as she walking toward the locker room, the door swung open and Danny emerged with Toews and Andrew Shaw. Amanda dropped her gaze and moved off to the side so they could pass by.

“Hey, you’re listening tonight, right?”

She didn’t realize he was talking to her until neither of the other two guys answered Danny. Looking up, she saw his eyes on her. “Uh, yeah.”

He flashed her that big, goofy grin. “Thanks for the candy.”

Amanda gave him a smile. “You’re welcome.”

“You okay?”

She nodded, shifting from one foot to the other. Toews and Shaw were looking back and forth between Danny and Amanda, obviously trying to put the pieces together. The players never talked to the laundry girl. She’d worked hard at making herself invisible.

“Call me and tell me what you think of the show tonight.”

“Yeah, sure. I will.”

Another wide smile, his dentures missing in action. She found the look endearing, even if he looked better with the front teeth in place. “I made them put their bags in the bin for you.”

Amanda smiled. “Thanks, Danny.”

And then he was turning to catch up with the other two guys who were a couple paces away. She heard them ask Danny who she was, but by the time he answered them he was out of range and she couldn’t hear. Maybe that was for the best. She didn’t want to know that she was the sad laundry girl who didn’t have any friends.

She felt bad for thinking ill of him when she walked into the locker room and saw that he’d been true to his word; all the bags of gear to be washed were neatly piled in the laundry bin.

After work she went grocery shopping and then home to fix something to eat for dinner. For the first time in months, she actually made a meal--a big pot of soup that would keep in the fridge for a few days. It tasted better than the canned stuff and warmed her up. The weather was going to be bad tonight with several inches of snow expected.

After she’d cleaned up after herself and made a chamomile tea, it was nearly ten o’clock. Her mind had been buzzing, waiting for the time to turn on the radio and hear his voice. Friday night had been wonderful and sharing her thoughts with him had been so easy. She'd been sorry to see him go after they’d sat on the sofa for five minutes with her head on his shoulder. She didn’t think the touch had sent him running, but you never knew.

When the intro to his show started playing, she turned up the sound and curled up on the couch where he’d sat just a couple night ago. As with all the previous shows, he was a natural at radio. His commentary was easy-going, yet insightful. The music covered a wide range of genres and decades, but still seemed to mesh well together. He had a real talent for creating an immersive show that you just wanted to sit down, slow down, and enjoy.

After a few heavier songs, one of which was Ramble On, which she loved. He came back on the air. “James Bay is a newcomer to the scene, hailing from Hitchin, Hertfordshire in the U.K. His debut album is yet-to-come, but he has released a handful of E.P.s with some great offerings on them. You may have heard his heartbreakingly honest breakup song Let It Go lately. I’m going in a different direction with him tonight and showcasing Hear your Heart, released last May. If you like what you hear, then check out his Nashville-recorded album in March.”

Amanda smiled as the guitar at the beginning of the song floated out of he speakers. The song was beautiful, but she was almost more taken by the skillful way in which Danny effortless let all that information and enthusiasm roll off his tongue. After the song ended, Tom Waits’ I Hope That I Don’t Fall In Love With You started playing. It was a nice song to transition into--slow, sweet, vulnerable, and sung by Wait’s iconic gravelly voice.

As it faded out, Danny said, “I hope you recognized that voice as belonging to the one and only Tom Waits. That particular song is taken from his 1973 album Closing Time. While it only enjoyed minimal sales when release, it has gained a cult status over the years. I don’t know about you, but the best and most classic albums always seem to start out that way. They tend to grow on you over the years and stand the test of time. Waits originally wanted the album to be a piano and jazz influenced piece, but it tended toward more folk than anything else. If you’re looking for jazzy Waits from around the same time period, then I humbly suggest you check out Nighthawks at the Diner, released two years later in 1975.”

“Now, I tend to be a little heavy on the rock because that’s where my heart is. But that doesn’t mean there aren't fantastic gems in other genres; you just need to know who can guide you to those worthwhile jams. I enlisted the help of a friend a couple days ago when looking for a Motown treat that hasn’t been overplayed at your dentist’s office. Something that has a unique feel and sticks in your head. Enter The Ponderosa Twins Plus One, two sets of twins and another friend from Cleveland. Their one and only album was released in 1971. Not much was made of it and the group disbanded shortly after. The track is Bound and if it sounds familiar, then you’ve probably heard it backing up Kanye West in his 2014 release Bound 2. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that I’m confident you’ll like the source material more. Check it out.”

She wasn’t sure that she could possibly be more infatuated with Danny than she was at that moment. She’d mentioned the song in passing because it has stuck in her head, but he’d treated what she’d offered up with such care and consideration that she was stunned.

He treated it just like he’d been treating her since the first day he met her in the locker room. He’d charged in and tossed his gear against the wall in frustration, but immediately backpedaled and apologized to her. Most of the guys didn’t even see her standing there because she wasn’t of consequence. Danny saw more than most, which was surprising since his on-ice persona would have led her to believe he was self-centered, hot-headed, and prone to reactionary gestures instead of thoughtful gestures.

The show was rounded out with a few more tracks, all of which he offered little interesting facts about, treating them with respect. His love for the music translated easily during those moments that his voice carried over the radio waves.

He signed off for the night with a simple comment. “That’s it for tonight, guys. I hope you enjoyed what we played for you. Or I hope you found at least one new song to add to your playlist. Until next time, search out the music that makes your life better. And remember to tell me about it by calling the station and leaving me a message or catch me on Twitter. Goodnight.”

She turned off the radio and walked into her bedroom in a haze of him--his voice and his passion for music that spoke to him. The curtains were open, and she walked over to pull them closed. Since the sun had set, the snow had been coming down. The small yard and the street were covered with at least a couple inches. It was the never-ending winter in which her grandmother had died and her life had fallen apart.

Amanda jerked the curtains closed and crawled into bed before realizing that Danny was probably driving home in the terrible weather. She tried to put it out of her mind because he was a grown man who knew how to navigate a snow-covered street. After fifteen minutes of trying to fall asleep, she grabbed her phone off the nightstand and sent him a text.

Amanda: Loved the show. Hope you get home safe in this snowstorm.

Two minutes went by, then five, then ten, then twenty. She flopped over in bed and stared at the phone’s LED light. No messages. Her worried, neurotic mind started racing, filled with images of a car accident. The thought of how devastated she’d be if he was hurt or, god forbid, killed was shocking because she barely knew him. Well, maybe she knew him better than barely, she thought. They had enjoyed some fairly in-depth conversations.

He’d gone off the air at midnight and it was just after one in the morning when she broke down and called his phone, half expecting to get his voicemail. Instead, he answered.

“Hello?”

“Danny?”

“Hey you,” he said. She could hear the smile in his voice and every bit of her heart just melted. “Are things okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Fine. I... I was worried about you getting home,” she confessed.

Danny chuckled. “Roads are kinda bad, but I don’t live too far from the station. I’m safe at home, promise.”

“God, I feel like your mom,” Amanda said, covering her eyes.

“Nah, it’s sweet. Thanks for caring. What did you think of the show?”

“I loved it. Sent you a text a few minutes ago saying so.”

“Shit, sorry. My Twitter blew up with messages about the show tonight, and I’ve been kinda ignoring everything until tomorrow. Let the show sink in with me before I let people tell me it sucked.”

Amanda wanted to roll her eyes at his self-consciousness. “Danny, they’re all telling you that it was amazing and you’re the best DJ ever. Trust me.”

He chuckled softly. “I’m glad you think so.” After a moment of silence he said, “Did you have a good day?”

If he hadn’t already made her made her love him, then that simple question would have sealed the deal. “Actually, I did.”

“Good,” he replied softly.

“I should let you go. It’s late, and you probably have practice in the morning.”

“Yeah, this radio stuff is cutting into my sleep, but it’s worth it. The next show is next Thursday at nine. You’re helping with my playlist again, right?”

Amanda smiled. “I don’t think I help much; I just do the cheerleader thing and tell you it’s great.”

“You gave me a great song to add. And I need a personal cheerleader.”

“Rah, rah, sis-boom-bah.”

He laughed. “I hope you got the pom-poms and the flirty skirt to go with that.”

“Sorry, buddy. I was more the jeans and a t-shirt girl in high school,” she told him, wondering if he was actually flirting with her.

“It’s a well-kept secret that most guys prefer jeans and a t-shirt girls.”

“Is that right?” she asked.

“I know I do,” he answered.

She opened her mouth to reply, but had no idea what to say. She hadn’t flirted in over two years and hadn’t been on a date in longer than that.

“You should get some rest because you might have to work on your resume tomorrow,” he finally said.

“What?” Amanda asked.

“Nothing. Just saying that you never know what might happen.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Yeah, maybe. I hope you have a good night, Danny.”

“You too. Goodnight.”

* * *

On his way to practice he dialed Dustin Mackey and called in a favor that had been sitting out there for years. Back in 2011, he’d run into Dustin in a bar while out with a few of the guys from the team. The two of them had hit it off, and Danny had gotten Dustin’s business a meeting with a couple prospective clients. It hadn’t taken much work on Danny’s part; he just called the guys and introduced himself as a player with the Blackhawks. They were hockey fans and the promise of an autographed stick had been enough to convince them to meet with Dustin.

Danny hadn’t minded because Dustin was a good guy and a hard worker. And now that his company had grown over the past four years, Danny was ready to pull the favor he was owed.

“Hey, man,” Dustin said after Danny told him who was calling. “Haven’t heard from you in a couple months. How’s Chicago treating you on the second go-round?”

“Good. Falling back into place, feels right.”

“Hey, we should get a drink one night. Catch up and shit,” Dustin said.

Danny nodded and moved the phone to his other year. “Yeah, sounds like a plan. But I’m, uh, calling to see if I can get a favor from you.”

“Hell yeah, man! You know I owe you.”

Perfect. Danny smiled and said, “I have a friend who is a programmer. She had to take some time off to take care of her grandmother who had cancer. I was hoping you might be looking for somebody.”

Dustin laughed. “You won’t believe this, but I am. We scored this big contract with Bank One and I’m strapped for people that know what they’re doing. She good?”

“You know I don’t know shit about what you do, but I’m sure she can do it. She’s great, and I don’t think you’d regret giving her a shot. I mean, I’m not asking you to give her a job--just an interview and a chance.”

“For sure,” Dustin said. “Text me her number? I’ll have Devon call her and schedule something.”

Danny grinned. “Thanks, man.”

“For real, though. I’m helping you get laid, right? She’ll be so grateful for the boost that she’ll...”

“No,” Danny said, swiftly cutting Dustin off. “It’s not like that. She’s a good friend.”

“Not even a little bit?”

“She’s just a friend. And don’t tell her I gave you her number. Just say you got it from your HR department or whatever.”

Dustin laughed. “She cute, though?”

“She’s not on the market.” Danny was disconcerted by the flash of jealousy that ripped through him at the thought of some other man looking at her like that.

* * *

They had gotten off the plane in Philly about an hour before. The bus had taken him to the hotel, and Danny was planning on meeting a couple of the guys from the Flyers for beers before the game the next evening. He’d been out on a road trip the past few days and couldn’t wait to get back and find an excuse to call Amanda. Right after he’d dropped his duffle bag on the bed, his phone started ringing. Her name was displayed along the top of the phone.

“Hey,” he said after pressing the phone to his ear.

“Hey,” she replied. “Did you give my name and number to CAS Tech?”

Danny raised his brows and ducked into the bathroom. “Uh, no. Why?”

“They called me for an interview.”

“Wow, that’s great,” he said, trying to feign enthusiasm and surprise. “What for?”

“Programming. Are you sure you didn’t give them my number?”

“Yeah, yeah. Must have got your number from a resume. Didn’t you say you were sending some out last week?”

“Yeah,” she replied, but she didn’t sound like she believed him.

“How you been? I was going to call you when I get back in town.”

“I’ve been okay. Anxious for this winter to end. I met with a real estate agent yesterday, but I don’t know if I can go through with it.”

Danny sat down on the edge of the tub and rested his forearms on his knees, the phone pressed against his face with his shoulder. “Still thinking of selling the house?”

“Yeah. I have mixed emotions, though. I feel like she’s here in all these memories and if I give this up, then I give her up.”

“I hear a but.”

She laughed softly, not much humor in her voice. “But I feel like if I don’t give this up, then I’ll have a tough time moving on with my life.”

“Memories aren’t in things; they’re in you. And living somewhere doesn’t mean you can’t have what you want in life. It just means you have to work at it a little harder,” he said.

“I know. Moving on is up to me. It’s just hard to focus on the future when I’m surrounded by the past.”

He nodded and said, “Yeah, I get you. Do you think it would sell quickly?”

“Guess it depends on how much I list it for. The real estate agent I met with seems hopeful.”

“Would you buy something else with the money you get?”

Amanda sighed. “I don’t know. I haven’t gotten that far yet. I think about selling it and then I decide I can’t and then I decide I have to and then I decide I’d regret it.”

“Don’t rush yourself. It’s just been, what, a couple months. Give it time and then maybe you’ll figure out the right thing for you.”

She was quiet for a moment before he heard her pulled in a deep breath. “Thanks, Danny. That... well, it makes me feel better. I’ve been worried about moving forward and moving on and...yeah.”

“Take it day by day. And one day you’ll know what to do.”

“Thanks.” She paused and then said, “Where are you tonight?”

“My old stomping grounds--Philly.”

“You miss it?”

He chuckled and stood up, pacing the small bathroom. “Yeah, a little. It’s the team I was with the longest. I’m grabbing a couple beers with some guys I haven’t seen in a while, and then I guess I’ll have to kick their asses in the game tomorrow.”

Amanda laughed, and this time it wasn’t forced or fake. “Don’t be too rough with them. But, hey, I’ll let you go. It’s almost happy hour.”

“I don’t mind talking. It’s... nice,” Danny admitted.

“It is,” she agreed.

“When is your interview?”

“Friday at ten. I’m nervous.”

Danny smiled. “You’ll be great. Don’t worry.”

* * *

She texted him just as he left practice. He had planned on calling her that afternoon to ask how her interview went, but she’d beaten him to the punch. They made arrangements to meet for an impromptu lunch since she’d just left her interview. Danny went home and used his fingers to run some gel through his hair so it didn’t look like a mess from the hasty shower after practice. He also switched the track pants for a pair of jeans with a white T-shirt and a tan Carhartt coat that looked like burlap, but kept the chilly wind off his torso.

He’d suggested a nicer place for lunch than her pick the last time, determined to treat her since he knew she was pinching pennies. Splurging on a forty dollar lunch for the two of them wouldn’t make or break his retirement plans, especially since retirement wasn’t in sight with his current bank account balance.

The place was nice, not too big and had a little corner booth that he asked the hostess to seat him at while he waited for Amanda to arrive. He didn’t have long to wait. She walked through the door just after twelve thirty and saw him sitting in the booth before she saw the hostess. It was like some invisible connection drew her gaze his way first.

It took every bit of his willpower to keep his jaw from dropping to the table. She’d always been in the scrubs she wore to work or a casual pair of jeans every other time he’d seen her. Today she’d obviously just come from the interview because she was in a skirt suit. The black pencil skirt was just the right amount of snug around her hips and thighs, ending just a couple inches above her knees. The matching suit jacket was tailored to define her shoulders and cinch in at her waist, but it was unbuttoned to reveal a silky cream blouse. A delicate gold chain hung from her neck with matching earrings shone through the strands of her blonde hair.

As the hostess brought her over, Danny saw that she had dusted neutral eyeshadow over her eyelids and painted her lips a light red--just enough to give them color to match with the flush on her cheeks. She sat down, out of breath.

“Sorry, I’m a little late. I didn’t know traffic was so bad over by CAS Tech.”

Danny was more than a little dumbfounded. He had no idea how to talk to the beautiful woman across from him, despite knowing that this was the same woman who he’d befriended weeks earlier after her grandmother’s death. “You look... nice.”

Amanda laughed nervously and waived off his compliment with a flippant hand. “I clean up well if a job is on the line.”

“How did it go?”

Their waitress sat a glass of water down on the table next to Amanda and disappeared after giving them both a menu. “Good,” Amanda said. “Really good, actually. I’ve got my fingers crossed because it would be an amazing opportunity. I mean, I don’t think I’m qualified, but he seemed to like me.”

“The boss?”

“The owner of CAS Tech. Dustin.”

Danny raised his brown. “Oh, first name basis already?”

Amanda rolled her eyes and took a sip of water. “Hardly. He’s really nice, though.”

“He’ll hire you if he’s smart.”

“I can only hope. Not that I don’t like trying to decide if your jersey is salvageable after a fight.”

Danny leaned back and swept his eyes down the delicate line of her neck to where the shirt collar laid against her skin. The first button was undone, and he wished the second was as well. “I wondered how many you’ve had to throw away,” he said absently.

“Too many. Nowadays I cringe when I hear you’ve gotten into fights.”

“Why?” Danny asked, his eyes lifting back up to hers.

“Because I know you now,” she said so matter-of-factly, like it was an obvious answer. But did she really know him? Probably more than some of the women he’d dated. But did he really know her? He’d only been seeing her as the wounded bird who he was going to help. The woman who walked in the door didn’t look like she needed saving, and that was throwing him for a loop.

Amanda looked around the quiet restaurant and then back at Danny. She had a little bit of eyeliner smudged on her upper lash line and at the outer corner of her eye. It accentuated the brilliant green of her irises. “This is a nice place,” she said.

“We’re celebrating your interview,” he explained.

Her eyes narrowed. “Are you sure you didn’t give them my name?”

It was harder to lie to her in person. He shifted in his seat and said, “Doesn’t matter if I did or not. It’s just an interview, and if they hire you, then they’re hiring you because they want you.”

“You sneak,” she whispered as she leaned forward.

Before he could answer, the waitress was there to take their drink orders. After she left, Amanda was studying the lunch menu and worrying her plump lower lip with her teeth. “Lunch is on me,” he said.

“I hope it isn’t literally on you,” she shot back with a little lift at the corner of her mouth.

“It’d be inedible if that was the case.”

Amanda lifted her eyes up from the menu without lifting her head. The effect of her looking up through her lashes at him like that make his groin tighten. He had an overwhelming urge to reach down and adjust himself. “I don’t know,” she said her eyes sweeping down his chest before returning to the menu. “Depends on how hungry I was.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Was she flirting with him? Baiting him? Coming onto him? To his surprise, he hoped she was. He’d been too concerned with playing the good guy who wanted to help her heal to entertain the fantasy of what kind of panties she had on and how he could get them off. Until now. He was hoping they’d be cream like her shirt with lacy edges that would bunch up as he curled his fingers into them to pull them down her legs. Legs which looked fantastic in her form-fitting skirt.

“What are you getting,” she asked. Danny realized he’d been sitting there for over a minute staring at the seven items on the lunch menu as he tried to figure out how to adjust his cock without her noticing.

“Ummm,” he said, searching the menu. “Probably the ziti.”

“You like Italian?”

He lifted his brows. “My last name is Carcillo. I’d be the shame of the family if I didn’t like Italian.”

“Do you have a favorite dish?”

“My grandmother makes this mean Lasagna Verdi al Forno. I used to beg her to make it on Sundays when I was a kid.”

Amanda smiled warmly at him. “Is it like regular lasagna?”

“Better. Homemade spinach pasta with the best sauce. Fresh shredded cheese. I could live on it even if it’d wreck my on-season diet.”

“Mmm, that sounds good.” The soft, dreamy way she said it as she glanced back down at the menu on the table in front of her fanned the flames of Danny’s newfound desire. He needed to get a hold on himself before he made a fool of himself and ruined what had become a comfortable friendship, one that he intended to keep.

* * *

Sunday was a rare free day. No practice, no game, no responsibilities. A few of the guys were meeting at Shawsy’s house to brag about how good they were at NHL 15 on XBox. Really, they were all pretty bad at it, but that didn’t stop them. It was something that Danny would have enjoyed, but he’d offered to stop by Amanda’s place to help her clean out her grandmother’s closet.

If you would have told him a year ago that he’d be taking a raincheck on a video game session with the guys to help some woman clean out her dead grandmother’s closet and he’d be happy about it, then he’d have laughed in your face. But the fact was that the choice was easy to make. Sitting in that little house with Amanda and listening to music and trying to make her laugh was so much more appealing.

Actually, he was looking forward to it so much that he showed up an hour early. It was just before five when he pulled up into her driveway and cut off the engine. She didn’t answer his light knock on the door so he turned the knob, surprised that it twisted and the door opened without trouble.

“Amanda?” he called out.

She came out of the kitchen, her eyes wide. “You’re early,” she said.

The air in the house was thick with the scent of delicious food. “Sorry. I lost track of time. Are you cooking?”

Amanda was in a pair of faded jeans and a green T-shirt that looked like it had droplets of sauce just under her breasts. “Yeah. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“For me?” Danny couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. He probably looked like a doofus.

“Yeah. I, uh, I got the job. At CAS Tech.”

His smile got bigger and warmer. “Yeah? That’s great!”

“Yeah, thanks to you for recommending me.” She looked over her shoulder into the kitchen. “So, I thought I’d make you dinner. Except I’m not the best cook, and I’ve never made this before.”

Danny ambled over to her. “What’d you make?”

“Lasagna Verdi al Forno.” Amanda winced. “I hope you don’t hate it since it’s your favorite.”

Danny opened his mouth, but nothing came out. She’d remembered their conversation from a couple days ago and made his favorite meal. He didn’t know what to say; no girl had ever done something like that for him.

“I know mine probably isn’t anything close to your grandmothers, but hopefully it won’t be terrible,” she said, turning away and retreating to the kitchen.

Following her, Danny caught sight of a casserole dish filled with the uncooked lasagna. The light green spinach noodles were layered carefully with the thick meat sauce. A plate of freshly grated cheese sat on the counter. Amanda turned away from him and started sprinkling the cheese over the top layer. She seemed nervous and self-conscious about the food.

Danny walked up behind her, barely suppressing the urge to place his hands on her hips. “That smells and looks amazing. I hope you didn’t make the noodles from scratch.”

Amanda laughed softly. “No way. This would be a disaster if I did. I found them fresh at an Italian market across town. I did make the sauce myself, though.”

“It’ll be amazing. But I’m not sure why you’re making dinner to celebrate your new job.”

“I’m making dinner to thank you for helping me get a job.”

“I just gave a buddy your number when he said he was looking for help.”

She wrapped a piece of foil over the top of the casserole dish and walked over to the oven to pull the door open. “Well, I wouldn’t have it if it weren’t for you, so this is thank you lasagna.”

Danny picked up the dish and carried it over to the oven. She stood back and watched him slide it onto the middle rack. “Thank you for my thank you,” he told her.

“You were supposed to be here a few minutes before it was done. And you were definitely not supposed to see me in this dirty shirt that is covered in sauce,” she said, one hand on her hip.

Danny flashed her a smile. “It’s cute.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Sure. I’m going to go grab something out of my closet that is less of a mess.”

“Need help?” he called after her, feeling giddy over the way she smiled at him and the fact that she’d made him dinner.

“No, I don’t need to locate my underwear drawer,” she yelled back from down the hallway. He smiled and shook his head, remembering the night that he’d teased her by sliding open the top drawer of her dresser, assuming it was where she kept her lingerie. Judging by her reaction that night, he’d been right.

Danny walked back through into the living room and looked at a couple pictures over the small fireplace. There was a framed photo of a young couple, a baby in the woman’s arms. The woman looked vaguely like Amanda with the fair complexion and blonde hair. Another was of a young Amanda--probably fresh out of a high school--with her arm around a gray-haired older woman wearing a long, flower-printed skirt and white blouse. Her grandmother, obviously.

Danny felt strange looking at the picture. He hadn’t noticed it the last time he was here, but seeing it now made him realize what he’d always known. The woman who had owned this house and raised the woman who had captured his attention was gone. His smile faded and he swept his eyes over the picture again, taking in the smile on her face and the way her head was tilted toward the young Amanda standing next to her. There was so much love between them; it was undeniable.

“Are you sure you don’t mind helping me clean out her closet?”

Danny turned and saw Amanda standing in the living room behind him. He’d been so engrossed in the picture that he’d failed to hear her approach. “I don’t mind.”

Amanda’s eyes softened when she looked past him at the picture. “You found her.”

His lips turned up in a slight smile. “Yeah. I did. It’s a good picture.”

“I was getting ready to leave for college in the picture. We had finished shopping for decorations for my dorm and she made a stranger outside the store take a picture of us.”

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and laughed. “That’s awesome. She seemed really cool.”

Amanda smiled. “She was. Wait until you see her hat collection.”

“Well, hell, let’s go dig in,” he told her motioning down the hall.

She led the way into her grandmother’s room and pushed the double doors of the closet back on their tracks. Inside were several hat boxes stacked in the floor and a selection of clothing hanging neatly. Skirts and pants were separated from the sweaters and blouses by several dresses.

Amanda pulled in a deep breath and backed away from the closet. Danny watched the backs of her legs hit the mattress as she sat heavily on the edge of the bed.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. I just realized that she’ll never wear anything in there again. It makes me sad.” Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears.

He wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t know how she was feeling or how he could help make it better or easier or even tolerable. “You ever think about keeping a couple things of hers? When I buy suits, they look like shit on me until I get them tailored. You could get a couple of her dresses taken in to fit you.” Danny cringed at how silly he sounded.

Amanda opened and shut her mouth. And then she stood up and walked past Danny to the closet, running her fingertips along the dresses in the middle. “I never thought about that,” she said, looking over her shoulder at him.

Danny shrugged. “I mean, it could be a way to keep part of her with you without keeping her entire wardrobe. You know?”

She smiled. “Yeah. That’s... I like that.”

“Yeah?” he asked, walking over to stand beside her. “You know which ones you want to keep?”

“Not at all,” she said touching the sleeve of a blue and red dress.

Danny settled down on the edge of the bed. “Let’s see them, then,” he told her.

Amanda laughed, and he was glad the humor reached her eyes. “I feel silly. Like I’m ten and I’m going through my mom’s clothes.”

“She would have loved it though, right?”

“Yeah,” she said after a moment. “Yeah, she would have. She would have liked you, too.”

“Shit,” Danny said, “I’d get Mrs. Hanser’s stamp of approval?”

“Oh yeah,” she said, pulling out a couple hangers that each held a couple pairs of slacks each. Amanda grabbed a folded garbage bag from the dresser and handed it to him. Without being asked, Danny flapped it open and held it out so she could drop the slacks into it.

When he saw her hesitate for a moment, he said, “She’s not her clothes. They’re just pieces of fabric.”

Amanda closed her eyes and dumped the last two pairs of pants in. “I know.” She turned back to the closet and then back to him on an afterthought. “Hey, thank you for doing this. I don’t think I could handle it without you here. The company helps a lot.”

“Hey, I’m here for the lasagna and the help with my radio show.”

“The next show is this coming Thursday?” she asked, pulling the last of the slacks out of the closet and walking over to dump them in the bag he was holding.

Danny nodded. “Yeah. Coming up quick. I haven’t done much preparation for it, though. I feel like I’m heavy on the slower stuff and need something a little upbeat to kinda switch things around.”

“I’m sure you’ll come up with something,” she said as she dropped three floral skirts into the bag.

“Any suggestions?”

Amanda paused with her fingers wrapped around a handful of hangers. “What kind of upbeat?” she asked over her shoulder.

“Anything. I almost put Sublime on there, but I played that week before last and don’t want to start repeating bands so soon.”

She came over and dropped more clothing into the bag. “Have you heard of Iration?”

Danny shook his head.

“They’re a southern Cali band that is still making music. They’ve been recording reggae pop, rock, whatever for a while. Good stuff. I mean, they’re no Sublime, but I have a soft spot for them.”

“Contemporaries of Sublime?”

Amanda shrugged and went back to the closet. “Yes and no. Maybe influenced by. They started making music in the mid-2000s, so about ten years after Bradley Nowell died.”

“Let me hear,” he told her when she came back with the rest of the skirts.

She pulled her phone out of her back pocket and handed it to him. “If you can suffer through listening to my tiny phone speaker, then you can listen. Bluetooth speakers are nowhere to be found in this house.”

Danny pulled up iTunes while she pushed the dresses out of the way and brought a handful of blouses over. One by one, she pulled them off the hangers and dropped them on top of the mound of clothes in the bag at his feet. It took him a couple minutes and a request for her to spell the band name for him to find the band and play a random track.

It was immediately upbeat with reggae and ska influences. He found his head nodding to the beat.

“His vocals are so smooth. I love it,” she said as she dropped the last of the blouses in the bag.

“Yeah, yeah. This is good. Definitely what I was looking for.”

“You don’t have to me nice to me,” she told him as she walked back over to the closet and flipped through the dresses that were left.

“Hey, you pick good ones,” Danny told her. “Let’s see the dresses. I’m pretty up on fashion and shit.”

Amanda laughed and pulled a floral dress out and held it up to her torso. It cinched in at her waist and spread out to a loose, pleated skirt. The fabric was white, but with large pink and yellow roses all over it. “She liked flowers,” he confirmed.

“She did. This was one of her favorites, but she didn’t like wearing it because she didn’t want to ruin it.”

“You should keep it,” he told her.

Amanda smiled and hugged the dress to her body. “Yeah. I think I will.”

“One more,” he told her. “You have to keep at least two.”

After laying it down on the bed next to Danny, she went back over to the closet to flip through the dresses again. Danny took the time to flip through her playlists and find The Black Keys. He picked another random song, pleased that he just happened to find one of his favorites, heavy on the synth and the bass.

“I don’t know,” Amanda said, looking at him. “Do you want to pick it?”

Danny left the phone on the nightstand and walked over to stand beside her. “Are you sure you don’t have a second favorite.”

“I’m sure. You pick. Whatever you like best.”

He looked at the line of dresses and mentally crossed out the ones with garish floral patterns. He wasn’t thinking of grandma Hanser wearing them; he was thinking of what would look good on Amanda.

After taking a closer look at a couple of the dresses, he pulled out a strapless red dress with a fitted bodice and a full skirt. The waist was pulled in by a belt. Danny held it up to Amanda.

“She never wore this one,” Amanda said.

“It looks good on you,” he said, sweeping his eyes down her frame as she helped him hold the dress in place. She looked like she’d stepped right out of the fifties or right out of his wet dream.

“It’s beautiful,” she replied.

Danny wanted to tell her that she was the one who was beautiful, but the thought made him feel awkward and stupid and inappropriate. He wasn’t supposed to be hitting on her when she was cleaning out her dead grandmother’s closet and picking out keepsakes.

“Keep it,” he implored her. “It looks like it already belongs to you.”

* * *

Amanda laid the two dresses on her bed and ran her gaze over them. They were well-made and had probably cost her grandmother a tidy sum of money back when she’d originally purchased them. Danny was right; a few slight alterations and they’d fit her well. She hadn’t considered keeping any of her grandmother’s clothing, but after he’d suggested she hang onto a dress or two, she felt like that was the perfect compromise in order to get through bagging up all the clothing.

Danny had offered to drop the two bags she’d filled with her grandmother’s clothing, including the stuff she found in the drawers of the dresser, off at the Goodwill collection site. She’d told him multiple times that she could do it, but he’d insisted. While he was stowing the bags in his trunk, Amanda looked at the dresses and tried her best not to shed another tear. Too many had made their way down her face in the past few months.

She heard the screen door clap shut and then the muffled thump of the wooden door shutting. The sound knocked her out of her thoughts as she realized the smell of dinner had filled the house.

“You okay?”

She closed her eyes when she heard his voice behind her in the dark bedroom. Daniel Carcillo was nothing short of the most amazing man she’d ever had the pleasure of meeting in her entire life. She could probably go another three decades before finding someone who could come close to him. His patience and care with her were beyond anything she could have asked for, and she still wasn’t quite sure why he’d decided to befriend her. Surely it couldn’t just be about making himself feel good while he played the hero.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m... surprisingly good.” She wrapped her arms around herself and turned around to face him. He was standing in the doorway, the light from the hall shining into the room around his silhouette.

“Good,” he replied.

“So, I’m going to have to cook you dinner again to thank you for helping me tonight.”

“I hope you aren’t telling me that you’re not going to feed me the lasagna in your oven right now.”

She smiled and took the few steps over to the door. He stepped back to allow her to come out into the hallway and make her way into the living room and then the kitchen.

“Tonight is for the job interview you got me. Next time will be to thank you for the help with my grandmother’s room.”

Danny was close behind when she entered the kitchen and grabbed a dish towel and a pot holder from the counter so she could pull the lasagna out. “Okay,” he agreed.

She laughed softly. “Okay?”

“Hey, if you’re going to cook for me, I’m not going to disagree. I eat out too much anyway. And you should see the stuff I make for myself. Like baked chicken breast in gallon ziplock bags that I eat cold when I need protein.”

Amanda sat the dish on the stovetop and turned to make a face at him. “That’s gross. Unfortunately, I don’t think this pasta monstrosity is going to mesh well with your professional hockey player diet.”

Danny waved a hand in the air, scoffing at her comment. “I gotta live a little sometime.”

She used a knife to cut two large pieces from the dish and, with the help of a spatula, arranged the slices on a couple plates she’d left on the counter. Danny offered to carry the plates over to the small table in the breakfast nook while she poured two glasses of water from the pitcher in the fridge. By the time she sat down across from Danny with the forks and the glasses, he was eyeing the lasagna on his plate with anticipation.

“I hope it doesn’t suck,” Amanda told him, sliding his fork onto his plate.

“I’m sure it won’t,” he replied, picking up the fork.

“It won’t be as good as your grandma’s,” she warned. “So don’t expect too much.”

Danny gave her a small smile before digging in and hefting a large bite up to his mouth. She watched, mesmerized, as he slipped the food between his lips and closed his eyes. He chewed once, twice, three times before a low moan of pleasure that originated deep in his his throat could be heard. The sound made her stomach flutter.

“You’d give my grandma a run for her money,” Danny said after he’d swallowed and opened his eyes.

Amanda laughed nervously and shook her head. “Not a chance in hell, but you’re sweet to say so.”

Danny had already shoveled another helping into his mouth. “I’m serious,” he said after he’d swallowed again. “This is really good. I need another piece.”

She laughed again, but this time it sounded more confident and genuine. “You already have a piece.”

“I’m definitely going to need a second piece. Or a third.”

Amanda rolled her eyes and looked down at her plate. She hadn’t really been in an eating mood after going through her grandmother’s clothes, but being in the kitchen with Danny and being so at ease around him made her reconsider. She used her fork to cut off a small bit from the corner of her piece.

The noodles were tender and more flavorful than the dry noodles you get in the grocery store. The sauce had just the right amount of sweetness and spice to it. She’d expected it to be edible, but not as good as what she was tasting.

“See, you’re a better cook than you thought,” Danny told her before he shoved another massive forkful into his mouth.

“It’s good.”

“It’s great,” he corrected as he talked around the mouthful of food.

* * *

Amanda couldn’t stop herself from feeling giddy over the thought of Danny coming over to see her again. She was surprised he’d asked if he could come over so soon after cooking him dinner two days before. On Monday night he’d played in a home game. She’d worked late that night and put in her notice that she’d be leaving to accept the job with CAS Tech.

He’d texted her after the game and invited himself over the next day for a brainstorming session for the radio show that coming Thursday, saying that he’d been slacking on the preparation and he planned on spending the next few days working on the playlist and his notes. She was incapable of saying no even if she wanted to. Spending time with him was the highlight of her days and had been for several weeks.

She heard his car pull into her driveway, and she straightened the oversized gray sweater she was wearing. She’d paired it with a plain pair of black leggings. Her feet were bare and her toes were painted red. Not that she felt like she had a chance with Daniel Carcillo, but she couldn’t keep dressing like a man around him. She needed to at least put forth some effort.

Amanda met him at the door, almost melting at that easy smile he flashed her. It was like he was genuinely happy to see her and excited to play songs for her. Maybe she could buy the idea that he wanted her opinion of his playlist, but she hardly thought she was anything exciting to a Blackhawks player. She’d been invisible to all of them, including Danny, for months.

“I’m pretty stressed out because the show is in two days, and I’ve been bad at the preparation this time with all the days I spent out of town last week,” Danny said, lowering his messenger bag onto the coffee table.

He looked so at home in the living room, sitting on the edge of the couch while he pulled the laptop and his portable speaker out.

“I thought you were researching on the road,” she said, lowering herself down beside him, all the while acutely aware of how close he was and how her crush on him was getting out of hand. It was easy to write it off when she was drowning in grief and he was lending her a shoulder. When he just dropped by and started talking to her like she was a friend and not some wounded animal, she started noticing the pitter-pat of her heart pick up in his presence.

Danny opened the lid of his laptop to reveal the playlist he’d been working on. “I’ve been slacking. We’re heading into the final stretch of the season with playoffs about three weeks away. It’s hard to concentrate on anything else.”

She leaned forward and scanned his playlist. It looked bare when compared to the previous one. There were less than five songs on it, and he usually played at least eighteen songs over the course of the two hours he was on the radio. “So, what direction are you looking to go in?” Amanda asked, trying to block out the way he smelled like fresh, spicy cologne.

“Any direction. I’m a little worried that this is going to be some kind of sausage fest without any female musicians on the list,” he confessed, motioning at the names of the artists on his screen. They were all male-fronted bands.

Amanda leaned back and lifted her legs up onto the couch to cross them. “How about Feist? She’d balance out all the rock with something a little lighter, more feminine.”

Danny turned his head to look over at her. “She was in, uh, Broken Social Scene, right?”

Amanda nodded. “I think so. Be daring and throw on a cover of hers. She’s got a couple Bee Gees covers and they’re great, mostly because the Bee Gees knew how to write a pop song.”

“Hit me with a title,” Danny said, letting his fingertips hover over the keyboard.

“Inside and Out,” she told him. In short order he had the song downloaded and playing. His head bopped along to the sweet indie pop vocals.

“Yeah,” he agreed after a moment, moving it into the playlist and making a couple adjustments of the song order. The way he was so engrossed in the selection and order of the songs was endearing to her.

“I like that,” she said.

“Like what?”

She smiled at him. “The order of the songs. It’s like you’re telling a story.”

The corner of Danny’s mouth lifted. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“You have the Iration song in there,” she observed. It was the one he’d played on her phone two days before while they were cleaning out her grandmother’s closet.

He nodded. “Yeah, I thought it would switch up things. I get too heavy on the rock sometimes, and I want it to be a eclectic show.”

“Danny, the show is amazing. Trust me. Did you see the write-up in Chicago Reader?”

“Yeah, but...”

“No buts,” she said, cutting him off. “They said your show was amazing. Stop being so paranoid. You could host that show in your sleep and play random things off your phone. People would still listen and love it.”

“Since when did you get all bossy with me?” he asked, leaning back to settle into the couch beside her.

Amanda felt the burning heat of a blush coloring her cheeks. “Sorry, didn’t mean to harp.”

“No, it’s cute. I like it. As long as you’re telling me how great I am, then I can handle it.”

She laughed and lightly punched him in the shoulder.

“Hey, how have the past couple days been? I didn’t have much of a chance to talk to you after we cleaned out the closet,” he said.

“Uh, okay,” she replied, trying to school her expression. Other than the moments in which the thought of Danny distracted her, things hadn’t been great. The changes in her life between leaving the job with the Blackhawks and cleaning out her grandmother’s possessions had been weighing on her and making her feel anxious. It was hard to move on from the past.

“You don’t sound okay.”

“I’m fine. It’s just been... well, the new job and cleaning out her room and still thinking about selling the house... It’s a lot. I feel...”

“What do you feel?” Danny asked her when she trailed off.

Amanda winced. “Guilty?” It was more a question than a statement. “I don’t want to forget everything and sweep it all under the rug like it never happened. Like I can’t wait to get on with the rest of my life.”

“You’re not doing that. But you do need to move on. I mean, it’s not like you were throwing shit in a dumpster after the funeral. It’s been almost two months now. If you’re ready to take those steps, then it’s time to take them. She’s always going to be part of you; she raised you.”

She looked over at him and the way he held her gaze with those steady brown eyes that hid depths of personality and genuine caring that she would have never guessed belonged to Daniel Carcillo. “Thanks, Danny.”

“Thank me by giving me another song,” he said. “Classic rock, maybe? Something a little on the cheesy end without being too over the top.”

Amanda wasn’t sure she was capable of pulling amazing songs out of thin air when all she could focus on was him and the way he looked at her and the way his hair flopped over on his temples and how he draped his arm over the back of the couch behind her. And how badly she wanted to curl up against him and smell the woodsy scent of his cologne that would surely be stronger if she pressed her face into his neck. But they were friends and friends didn’t do that.


	4. Chapter 4

Danny watched her as she worried her lower lip, running the edges of her teeth over the plumpness of it. She had no idea that she was driving him crazy with the need to kiss her. It was like every little thing that was said or done between them now just heightened his desire for her. The comfortable intimacy of sitting on the couch and playing songs for each other. The fantastic and thoughtful dinner she’d made him earlier that week. The way the right shoulder of her oversized sweater kept slipping down to reveal the the silky skin of her neck and collarbone.

“I don’t know, Danny,” she finally told him. He’d asked her to give him ideas for a cheesy classic rock song.

“Come on,” he goaded her. “A guilty pleasure. Something like Aerosmith or Van Halen or Fleetwood Mac.”

Amanda raised her brows. “Fleetwood Mac is legit. They are not a guilty pleasure.”

“Mmm, debatable,” Danny replied with a grin.

He got just the reaction he wanted when she balked. “Danny, Lindsey Buckingham is the most underrated guitarist and songwriter ever. And he was a huge part of Fleetwood Mac. So stuff it.”

“Ooh, touched a nerve, did I?”

“Of course. You can say what you want about wacky Stevie Nicks, but she wrote some gems herself. Landslide? Sara? Those are gorgeous.”

“Don’t think I’ve ever heard Sara.”

Amanda waved her had in the direction of his laptop. Danny knew she was telling him to download it. Unable to suppress the smile on his lips, he leaned forward and searched for it. Within a few seconds it was available to play. The song was mid-tempo and featured Stevie Nicks’ distinctive vocals. The lyrics told a vague story that seemed somehow relatable and familiar. Danny had never been much of a fan of hers, but he would give her that she could write an ethereal-sounding song that was somehow so grounded in reality that it spoke to many people.

“I’m not some Stevie fangirl, but I appreciate her songwriting skills. There’s just something about this one. I can’t quite put my finger on it. Some sort of sweet longing or... something.” Amanda shook her head and looked off to the side like she was thinking of the right thing to say. Everything she’d already said had sounded amazing to Danny. At that moment he wished he could stay there with her all night and listen to every song that she loved and ask her why.

He added the song to his playlist while she was distracted, still trying to think of what about the song had grabbed her.

“Maybe it’s that line... When you build your house, call me home,” she said, looking over to meet his gaze.

“What does that mean?” Danny asked.

Amanda shrugged. “It could mean whatever you want or need it to mean. That’s what’s so great about music. I guess I look at it as a beautiful way of saying you’re ready to settle down and welcome the comfort and stability of a place or a person. At the time she wrote it, her life was pretty much in upheaval, if I remember right. Her love life was complicated, and she had no place to call home. I mean, of course she probably had a house, but a home is different. You know?”

“Yeah,” Danny said, unsure of what he could say to her after the beautiful way she’d just made him fall in love with a song he hadn’t cared about a minute ago. Stevie Nicks was repeating the line that Amanda had just quoted.

“Or maybe I read too much into things,” she said.

“No, I don’t think that’s possible. I guess I never really listened until now, until I heard what you had to say. I... It’s nice. It feels like a gift you gave me. Like, the gift of appreciation of a song.”

Amanda smiled. “That’s why people listen to your radio show. You give them that.”

The complement made him want to blush. It was probably the best one he’d received in a long time. “That’s... Thanks.”

The song faded out and started playing again. Stevie’s voice was saying, “Wait a minute, baby. Stay with me a while,” and Danny was hyper aware of how close he and Amanda were sitting and how much he wanted to kiss her. And kiss her for so many reasons. For caring about his radio show. To tell her that life would go on without her grandmother. For sharing music so openly and completely with him. For looking like the woman of his dreams in her big gray sweater and the tight black leggings with her hair tucked behind her ears and a soft smile on her face.

“Are you really okay, Amanda?” he asked.

Her eyes softened and her gazed dropped. “It’s still hard, but I’ll live. Time heals all wounds, right?”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” He dipped his head to try and lock eyes with her again. When she just shook her head, he lifted a hand and lightly touched her cheek. The minute that his fingertips brushed her skin, he realized that they hadn’t touched much. The verbal intimacy had been there, but the physical intimacy hadn’t. And now that he had both it was like falling into a big, gaping hole in the ground.

Amanda lifted her head to look at him and he could see his surprise mirrored in her eyes.

“You’ve already helped,” she whispered. Danny’s eyes dropped to her lips, and he watched her self-consciously wet them with her tongue. It snapped any control he’d been clinging to. As if of its own accord, his hand slid around to cradle the spot where her head dipped into the top of her neck.

Instead of speaking, he leaned forward, tilted his head, and pressed his lips softly to her pretty, pink ones. He felt her gasp and then felt the way she parted her lips to kiss him back. He could feel himself spiraling down into that sinkhole that had opened up beneath him as he brought his second hand up and touched her other cheek.

He hesitantly flicked the tip of his tongue out. When she opened for him, the lust that had been building in the pit of his stomach flared out into the rest of his body. When they were forced to come up for air, he dropped a hand to the loose collar of her sweater and pulled it down so he could run his lips over her collarbone, neck, and shoulder. Her fingers were laced in his hair by then, and she was holding his mouth to her like he didn’t already intend to stay there for the rest of his life.

He moved back up to kiss her lips, sweep his tongue into her sweet mouth, while his free hand dropped to her hip. She was arching into him shamelessly, pressing her body into his as much as she could from her position on the couch. Danny broke their kiss long enough to grab her waist with both hands and pull her onto his lap. Her legs parted so she could straddle him. The position left her in the position of power, looking down at him. He saw a flicker of reservation in her eyes, but he dispelled it by grabbing the back of her head and pulling her down into a kiss. It felt like drowning, the couch behind him and her in front of him and him wanting to be nowhere but right there surrounded by her.

Her fingertips were digging into his shoulders as she glided her tongue over his. Danny’s brain was setting off the alarm bells, telling him that his cock was hard as a rock and he was in danger of ripping the crotch of those thin little leggings with his hands so he could ease the ache, the desire for her, that had been building for weeks. But instead of slowing down, he ramped up by slipping his hands beneath the hem of the sweater and up her sides until he got to the lacy material of her bra.

Without asking for permission, he deftly popped the clasp on the back before he moved his hands around to push the bra up and cup her breasts. Her nipples were pebbled, but still silky smooth against the rough palms of his hands. He felt and heard the low moan fall from her mouth, and it emboldened him.

The song restarted itself as he rolled her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and let her direct the kiss. She seemed as hungry for him as he was for her. Danny dropped a hand down to the apex of her thighs where she was spread, straddling his lap. He cupped her, running his middle finger along the seam of her leggings where it was laying against her slit.

He almost bucked up into her when he heard her give a soft cry that sounded like a mixture of desire and frustration. Which were pretty much the two emotions that were consuming him like wildfire. “I want you,” he whispered against her lips when they let up on the kiss to pull in a breath.

“Take me,” she murmured as her short, spiky breaths puffed out on his face.

Danny didn’t need to be told twice. She was practically begging him for it. His mind was racing, hoping he’d left a condom in his wallet. He probably had one. Maybe. Hopefully. If he didn’t, then he’d just kill himself.

As carefully as his lust-addled mind could allow, he pushed her over on the couch and stood up. She looked delicious with her hair all messy and her lips swollen from kissing him.

“Danny,” she said softly.

Without responding, he reached down and pulled her up by her arm. In the next moment he bent over and threw her over his shoulder, using his legs to lift.

“What?” she asked.

“Bed,” he explained.

“Oh my god,” she whispered.

“You better tell me to stop now,” he warned as he walked into her bedroom.

“No, don’t stop.”

Her plea sent a shot of adrenaline through his body, and he felt like he could probably bust his zipper open with his cock. Her bedroom was dimly lit only by a streetlight outside filtering through her curtains. As much as he wanted to see every inch of her body, he left the lamp off and laid her on the bed, following soon after, covering her body with his own.

Amanda arched up into him, sliding her arms around his neck like it was the most natural thing in the world as they kissed again. And as good as her lips tasted, he was forced to push himself up off her enough to jerk the sweater over her head. She pulled the loose bra off her arms and tossed it in the floor while he curled his fingers into the waist of her leggings. He snagged her underwear on the way down and pulled the rest of her clothing off within a few seconds.

Danny knew if he touched her naked body that he’d be lost, so he quickly jerked his shirt up over his head and fished in his back pocket for his wallet. Her little hand was tentatively tracing the outline of his cock which was pushed up against the front of his jeans. He clamped his teeth together and flipped through the bills in his wallet until he found the foil condom wrapper. The wallet was jammed back into the pocket and he quickly unbuttoned the jeans. He struggled to divest himself of the pants and shoes without removing himself from the cradle of her bare legs. When he was finally successful, he laid his body over hers, kissing her deeply again.

Amanda moaned into his mouth as his cock brushed against her wetness. The power made him light-headed. If he wasn’t just as crazy for her as she was for him, then he would have enjoyed teasing her, but, as it was, he was close to blowing his load like a teenage boy making out for the first time. Ripping the packet open with his teeth, he hastily rolled the condom on his cock and used a hand to position himself at her entrance. With an exploratory touch, he ran his fingertips up the soft skin on either side of her slit. It was peppered with course hair, but still soft and supple and welcoming.

Danny lifted his eyes to look at her face. Her head was thrown back, her eyes closed, her mouth open, a look of absolute pleasure written across her features. The song was still playing in the living room. It had just started again. Stevie Nicks was talking about drowning in a sea of love. And that made sense to him right then because the tip of his cock was nestled just at her entrance and he knew that a tilt of his hips would take him over the edge into that sea.

The press of her heel against his ass undid his control. Danny easily slide into her, dropping to his forearms as his hips rocked into the cradle of hers.

“Oh my...” She managed to get out the first part, but the “god” at the end was stolen by a break in her voice that turned into a moan.

The tension in his jaw was almost unbearable as he tried to control himself while rocking into her, flexing his hips rhythmically. He felt each stroke down to his toes.

Her mouth was on his, and then his mouth was on her neck, her shoulder, her chest, the valley between her breasts, her firm nipple. He sucked gently and felt the response of her body as she tightened around his cock. Part of him was fascinated and part of him was absolutely wild with lust, rutting into her like he couldn’t stop himself. As each minute passed, his speed and force increased. It was involuntary and purely driven by him chasing down a climax while he hoped that the way he was giving it to her was getting her closer to her climax as well.

Her little gasps and moans were becoming louder and she felt so tight around him, squeezing his cock like a vice. Danny pushed back his orgasm and shoved a hand between them to rub a thumb across her clit. The touch, which was probably rough and fumbling, set her off. He felt her legs clamp around his waist and her hips lift off the bed.

He took the opportunity to cover her open mouth with his own. The tension in her body was delicious. After a few more strokes into her, he felt his abdomen tighten and the head rush of an intense orgasm. For a few seconds he was helpless and unable to do anything but hold his mouth over her own and pump into her.

As he slowly came down, they remained still, her legs snuggly wrapped around his waist and his softening cock still buried in her. Each second that ticked by brought them back into reality. Danny’s head became clearer and clearer until he felt her legs loosen and release him. Resisting the urge to give her one last kiss, he rolled off her and laid next to her on his back.

The song was starting again. Stevie was asking someone to stay with her a while. Danny didn’t know what to do. Sleeping together hadn’t been part of the plan. They were supposed to be friends. “You okay?” he asked.

It took her a moment before she said, “Yeah. Uh, so, that happened.”

Danny couldn’t stop from chuckling softly. “Yeah. That happened.” He could think of nothing else to say. And the awkwardness of the situation was quickly increasing by the second. They were both naked and in her bed and that had definitely NOT been the plan.

He looked at the bedside clock. It was almost ten o’clock. He had practice tomorrow morning and three interviews that the Blackhawks had lined up. Staying in bed with her felt like it would be a good idea, but his brain was telling him that was a bad idea. Or maybe he was just making excuses because he was a damn coward.

“I’ve got an early day tomorrow,” he said stiffly.

“Yeah, okay,” she replied in what sounded like a strained voice. He chose to ignore it and push himself off the bed. His shirt and jeans with the boxers inside were in the floor on his side of the bed. Danny sat on the edge of the bed and put them on.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked.

“Uh, huh,” she answered, turning her head away from him. He didn’t know what else to say. The sex had changed things, and he started to get the feeling it was for the worse.

“Maybe we can, uh, work on the playlist later this week.”

“Sure,” she said, pulling the blanket over her naked body.

He leaned down over her, but she didn’t offer him her mouth. He settled for kissing her forehead and smoothing her hair back. “See you later?” he asked.

“Sure,” she replied again.

* * *

Amanda had considered getting a shower after he left. Instead, she’d gotten up to make sure he had locked the door behind himself and crawled back into bed to cry. She didn’t know exactly why she felt so sad. Maybe part of it was missing her grandmother. The other part was certainly the fear over losing Danny as a friend. In the short time that they’d known each other, he had made such a huge impact on her life. As much as she hated to admit it, part of the reason she shed more than a few tears was because he hadn’t stayed.

When she woke up at nine o’clock the next morning, the sun was casting a bright beam across the floor of her bedroom. She looked over at her phone on the nightstand. The LED light was blinking, indicating a message. Instead of picking up the phone, she rolled over and buried her face into the pillow, imagining it smelled like him. It didn’t. He hadn’t stayed long enough to leave a trace of his scent, though she thought it might be all over her body.

The previous night had been a blur. Talking with him about music had been so comfortable that she wasn’t quite sure when they had started kissing. She remembered Sara playing and then she remembered his hands on her. And then his lips. And then she was gone down the rabbit hole, clinging onto him and hoping they didn’t hit bottom.

She hadn’t slept with anyone in almost two years. The guy she’d been dating when her grandmother had been diagnosed quickly split when he realized that her life was getting too complicated. Danny had been the first guy to pay her attention since then. She’d been so sure it was just a friendship, even though her crush on him was getting out of control. But he’d been the one to make the first move last night. Not that she hadn’t encouraged it.

Maybe guys like him didn’t think that much of sex. Maybe if he was in the mood, any old thing would do. Maybe she wasn’t that special. The thought depressed her.

Before she got out of bed, she picked up her phone and checked the messages. There was one text from Danny. Her heart leapt up into her throat; she hadn’t been expecting to hear from him so soon, if at all.

**Danny: I really hope you don’t hate me right now**

It had been sent twenty-eight minutes ago. Amanda wasn’t quite sure how to take the message. Did he regret what had happened? Did he want to forget about it? Was he sorry for leaving? Was he sorry they’d had sex? She sighed and put the phone down on the nightstand, unsure how to respond. She didn’t hate him, but what could she say that wouldn’t make her seem like the sad girl who was desperate for his affection. Or desperate to feel his body on top of hers. She closed her eyes, remembering the way he’d moved.

After a few minutes, she picked the phone up and replied.

**Amanda: I don’t hate you. Did we really do that?**

In less than a minute, her phone was dinging with his response.

**Danny: We did. You regret it?**

**Amanda: No. Do you?**

She held her breath, waiting for his response. It came quickly.

**Danny: No. Sorry I freaked and ran out on you though**

His apology was a relief, but she still didn’t know how he felt about her or what happened.

**Amanda: So you sleep with your friends a lot?**

She cringed after she hit send. The question sounded bitchy and accusatory. His reply arrived a couple minutes later.

**Danny: No. Don’t know what got into me**

**Amanda: Hey, I was a participant too**

**Danny: I remember that**

She didn’t know what to say so she got up and grabbed her robe on the way to the bathroom. A shower was needed before she could start her day. Instead, all she did was stand under the spray and think about Danny. Her thoughts were a jumble of different emotions. She was unsure about his feelings toward her and afraid he had no feelings toward her at all. She was upset with herself that she’d caved into his touch like that, and she was trying desperately to avoid the thought of how much she liked him and how much she wished he would have woken up in her bed this morning. But she was not in his league, and she’d started out as a charity case.

Her phone was blinking when she got out of the shower. It had to be Danny again; no one else texted her nowadays. She forced herself to dry her hair and tucked the towel around her body before checking the message.

**Danny: Are we okay?**

Amanda chewed on her lower lip as she leaned against the vanity and thought about his question. It was vague. What were they? Friends? Was that still the case? Was that okay? Was she okay? Could she do that? Ignore what had happened and the way her feelings were progressing? And then she realized that if they weren’t okay, then they weren’t anything, and he’d probably pop right out of her life like he’d popped into it.

**Amanda: We’re okay. Let’s just forget last night happened so things aren’t complicated**

The minutes ticked by. One, two, five. She brushed her hair out and rubbed lotion on her face, avoiding actually looking at herself in the mirror. As she was walking back into the bedroom in her robe, her phone dinged.

**Danny: Sure. I can do that**

It was amazing how those five words made her breathe a sigh of relief and also made her heart constrict in disappointment.

* * *

Just as she finished cleaning up after herself after dinner, her phone started ringing. She knew it was Danny before she even picked up, but she had no idea what he would want. She’d assumed he’d be at home preparing for the radio show the next day. She wished he was calling to just talk to her, but that seemed unlikely after the awkwardness via text that morning.

“Hello?

“Hey, it’s me.” His voice was soft, unsure.

“Hey, you,” she replied.

“What are you doing tonight?”

“Not much.”

Danny cleared his throat. “I still haven’t finished the playlist for the show tomorrow.”

“Don’t overthink it, Danny. Everyone loves the show.”

“WGN got some good feedback from a bunch of people. I’m... glad. I worried that people wouldn’t take me seriously.”

Amanda couldn’t help but smile at his silly insecurity. “You don’t have any reason to worry.”

“You think I could come over and get your take on what I have so far?”

Amanda froze, looking out the kitchen window to the dimly-lit street outside. “Like now?”

“Yeah, I mean, if you’re not busy and...”

“And?”

He laughed softly, but there was no humor in the sound. “And if you don’t think I’m an asshole for taking advantage of you.”

“You didn’t take advantage of me,” she told him.

“Still...” he replied, trailing off.

There was never a moment during which she was seriously going to tell him he couldn’t come over and see her. Maybe she’d lost all her pride or self-respect, but if Danny wanted to spend time with her, then she’d happily agree. Even if things were weird after the previous night. Instead of telling him to come over, she said, “Aren’t you sick of me already?”

He chuckled. “Not a chance. Does that mean I’m allowed to bring my playlist and get your expert opinion?”

“Yes,” she told him, trying to suppress the stupid smile on her face.

He was knocking on her door within thirty minutes, his laptop and speaker in tow. She let him in and watched him settle himself on the end of the couch. So there could be distance between them when she sat on the other end, obviously. Was he giving her a choice of how close to sit or was he sending her a signal that he’d prefer they not be too close?

Amanda didn’t know what to think beyond how good he looked in the low-slung jeans and the Blackhawks hoodie. He had a black beanie on his head, smashing his hair down so she could see tufts of it escaping around his ears and at the nape of his neck. Thinking that he’d been naked in her bed less than twenty-four hours ago made her head spin.

She sat down on the seam between the middle cushion and the right cushion. A little over a foot separated them. It seemed like such a small distance, yet also a huge expanse. Amanda wanted to be closer, but she knew that was probably a bad idea. Getting wrapped up in Daniel Carcillo and having him break her heart--the only inevitable conclusion--would be the worst idea ever when she was still dealing with the loss of the most important person in her life.

“I’m sorry if I was a dick last night.”

Amanda laughed nervously. “Uh, you were many things, but a dick was not one of them.”

“I hope I was at least good,” he told her, fiddling with the touchpad of his laptop. His eyes were on everything but her. She knew the feeling. Looking at him was a little difficult.

“You were great.”

Danny looked over at her, his brows raised. “Oh, yeah?”

She chuckled and shook her head. “Don’t fish for compliments. I was having a dry spell so any action would have been good action.”

“A dry spell?” He turned toward her, the playlist forgotten. Amanda wanted to squirm under the weight of his attention.

“Yes, a dry spell.”

“Like, how long of a dry spell?”

She rolled her eyes and looked away. “Like a couple years.”

When she glanced back over at him, his eyes were wide. “Serious?”

“A terminally ill grandmother is not sexy. I was dating a guy who dumped me right after the diagnosis. Guess I got too complicated. Didn’t really have much energy or interest in dating after that.”

“He sounds like a dick,” Danny said. “So, you... you never went out and hooked up with a guy just to get it out of your system?”

Amanda’s bark of laughter made him jump, which felt satisfying for some sick reason. “I didn’t have anything in my system. I just wasn’t interested.”

“Wasn’t? Past tense?”

“Obviously. We did get naked last night.”

“Still past tense?”

Amanda narrowed her eyes. “What are you asking?”

Danny shook his head and turned back to the computer. “Nothing. Did you think of a good cheesy rock song?”

“I thought you were using Sara.”

“That’s not cheesy.”

“Well, I’m glad you’ve come around to my way of thinking,” she told him. “As for cheesy; I don’t know.”

“Like Journey or Styx or Bad Company,” he said, listing off band names.

“Oh man,” Amanda said, laughing softly. “Ready for Love by Bad Company is the cheesiest, but such a favorite of mine.

“Shit, I forgot about that one. I was thinking Can’t Get Enough, but Ready for Love is even better.”

She watched him search his music library and add the track to the playlist. He’d obviously added several earlier in the day because the time on the playlist clocked in at an hour and seventeen minutes. The remainder of the show would likely be filled with him or commercials. He changed the order of a few songs and then tested the way they flowed by playing the last twenty seconds of one and the first twenty seconds of the song that would play afterward.

Amanda offered a couple suggestions when the songs didn’t quite mesh well together. He reordered things once more and sat back on the couch, lacing his fingers behind his head and stretching.

“I didn’t realize how much work you have to put into a radio show,” Danny said.

“You love it; don’t lie,” she told him.

Danny smiled over at her. “I do. Thank you for being my sounding board.”

She shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I like talking music with you. I feel like you’re a kindred spirit, even if we don’t always like the same things.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” He dropped the cursor on the first song and hit play to start the entire list.

Amanda settled back into the couch and closed her eyes. His questions were still eating at her. “What did you mean earlier? When you asked if I wasn’t interested in men.”

“Nothing. I was going to be an asshole, but you deserve better than that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I, uh, I don’t know. I’m... attracted to you and I thought maybe if you wanted an outlet or a distraction that I could be there for... whatever. Like, no strings attached.”

Amanda swallowed and wondered if the flush on her face and the roaring in her ears were real or imagined. What exactly was he suggesting? She couldn’t even open her eyes to look at his face to see if he was kidding.

Before she could ask him to explain further, he said, “Forget it. I’m being stupid.”

“Like friends with benefits?” she asked softly.

He was silent for a very long moment that seemed to drag out into forever. Finally, he said, “Yeah, like that. I mean, you’re probably not in a place where you want a relationship, and I’m not in a place where I can commit to one since I might be relocating at the end of the season. I don’t know, it made more sense in my head, I guess.”

So it was either an awkward friendship with one night of hot sex casting a shadow over it or sex with Daniel Carcillo whenever she wanted, provided he was available, and potential heartbreak when he left town. Scratch that, not potential heartbreak, but certain heartbreak. He was too good of a guy to get over easily, and she was ripe for the picking, unable to separate sex and emotional intimacy.

The memory of the way he’d kissed her, the heat of his hands on her skin, the weight of him pressing her down into the mattress. All of it was overwhelming. She could just imagine him leaning over and kissing her until they were both horizontal on the couch or floor. And then he’d pull off her clothes and run his mouth down the length of her neck just like he’d done the night before.

Amanda’s core tightened at the thought of the way he’d felt inside her. “Okay,” she said, not even really thinking about what she was agreeing to.

“What?” His voice was far away, but he sounded shocked.

“Okay, unless you changed your mind. You can change your mind if you want to. No hard feelings.”

He laughed softly, the chuckle was laced with disbelief. “I’m not changing my mind.” When she didn’t open her eyes, he added, “Look at me.”

Amanda opened her lids and turned her head to look at him. His eyes were dark and his mouth looked delicious. She could almost taste him from memory alone. “Okay,” she whispered.

* * *

He looked like a predator, and that was probably very accurate since she felt like the prey. She’d just offered her throat to the lion who was looking for a nice, warm meal. Amanda swallowed hard and pulled in a nervous, shuddering breath.

“You swear I’m not taking advantage?” he asked after wetting his bottom lip with a flash of his tongue. The sight made the muscles between her legs tighten in remembrance of the way his kisses felt.

“I swear,” she whispered, feeling like she was being drawn in by his gravitational pull. In a moment of awkwardness and fear, she stood up and walked into the kitchen. She could feel his eyes on her as she passed him. With shaking hands, she poured two glasses of water from the pitcher in the fridge. She carefully carried them back into the living room and sat both on the coffee table next to his laptop. She’d done it just to avoid sitting beside him and feeling that tension.

Before she could walk back around the table to her spot on the opposite end of the couch, his fingers had wrapped around her wrist. A slight tug from him, brought her between his legs. “You can sit over here with me,” he said softly, looking up at her.

Amanda laughed nervously. “Oh, yeah? On your lap?”

Danny grinned. “Yeah. I wouldn’t mind that.”

Instead of doing what was in her nature, which was to run, Amanda pulled in a deep breath and turned around to brazenly settle her ass on his thighs. Danny’s hands immediately went to her waist as he shifted her to a more comfortable position with her back pressed against his chest. Her head fell back onto his shoulder, giving her a close look at the scruffy beard that had started growing along his jawline.

“Hi,” she said, lamely.

He smiled down at her, the edges of his eyes crinkling up. “I can’t get last night out of my head.”

The admission made her heart skip a beat. “Definitely the highlight of my year so far,” she agreed, trying to play it cool while his hands were roaming. One was running down the top of her thigh and the other was halfway underneath the hem of her shirt. She’d been in a pajama set when he’d called--a matching light blue capri pant with a knit top that had a moon embroidered on the front. It was far from sexy, but that didn’t seem to be stopping him.

“I swear I didn’t come over here to talk you into this. I hope you believe me,” he murmured, sliding the hand under her top up until the heat of his huge splayed hand was searing into the flesh of her stomach. The tip of his pinky was resting on her belly button and his thumb was resting against the bottom edge of her bra.

“Sure, sure,” she replied in a terribly dreamy voice. She was too far gone to really say much.

Danny chuckled. “I swear.”

“I know,” she said after a moment. “I know you just wanted help with the radio show and to check on me. I know you don’t want me that much.” She’d meant it to be light-hearted and teasing, but when it come out, it was far too true to sound anything other than sad.

He shifted his hips and she felt the ridged length of his cock pressed against her ass. “I did come for the radio show, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you that much,” he whispered in her ear. His breath was hot and caused her to shiver, gooseflesh breaking out all over her arms. “You feel that?” he asked, lifting his hips until she lifted hers to ease the pressure of him pushing up against her.

“Yes,” she whispered, grabbing at the outsides of his thighs for something to hold onto.

Smoothly, the hand that had been on her thigh was slipping beneath the waistband of her cotton capris. For a brief moment she felt his fingertips trace the top edge of her panties before burrowing underneath the hem of them as well. “I was pretty worried this morning that you’d never want to see my face again,” Danny said softly, his lips brushing against her earlobe.

Before she could answer, his fingertips slipped down over her slit. He confidently dipped his middle finger inside her, gathering her wetness and using it to coat her clit. “Danny,” she gasped, arching her body up.

He spread his thighs which, in turn, spread hers, leaving her wide open for him to work her with the magical fingers of his right hand. The world shrank to him and her, his hard body beneath her, his hand between her legs. The rush of adrenaline and lust that had her heart pounding and blood rushing through her ears was euphoric and dizzying in the intensity. This was happening; heavy petting and foreplay with Daniel Carcillo on the couch on a Wednesday night. She’d been planning to go to bed and feel sorry for herself earlier in the day. Now her night involved a naked Danny and what promised to be a really fantastic orgasm if Tuesday night had been any indication.

Amanda felt like it was all too surreal and unattainable, even if his lips were pressed to her ear while he slipped his middle finger inside her up to his second knuckle. Her lips parted to let a soft cry of pleasure escape with her breath.

“I’ve been thinking about the way you sounded last night all day, too,” he whispered in her ear, the brush of his lips making her shiver in anticipation.

“Yeah?” Her reply was strangled and short.

“I didn’t think you’d let me do this to you again.”

Amanda couldn’t help but laugh. “Do what? Make me feel good?” she asked. “Why did you think I would turn it down?”

Danny pressed his finger deeper inside before pulling it out again. “You didn’t seem the type. I thought I fucked up with you and you’d never talk to me again.”

“I like you,” she admitted. Her cheeks were burning with a bright red flush. It was partially because of her admission, but mostly to do with the way he was building her up with his right hand

“I like you, too,” he replied before pressing his lips against her throat, then on her jawline, and finally on her mouth. When she parted her lips for him, he swept his tongue inside. The kiss was made even more passionate by the way he was rubbing her clit with the pad of his middle finger.

She closed her eyes and just fell into him and everything he was doing. She must have been making noise of some sort because when he removed his mouth from hers, he pressed his lips to her ear again. “You sound so fucking hot,” he growled.

The way he said it combined with the circular motion of his finger on the button at the top of her slit caused a flash of white-hot pleasure that originated between her legs and welled out into her stomach and legs, then her arms and chest. All the tension left her body and she pulled into couple big breaths of air before she melted into Danny’s body.

“Did you just come on my lap?” he asked, humor and disbelief lacing his tone.

She could feel the heat on her cheeks again. “Maybe.”

Before she could process what was happening, he’d pushed her up onto her shaky legs and then back down on the couch. He was standing over her, undoing the buckle of his belt and then unzipping his jeans. She watched with intensity, never letting her eyes leave his crotch.

Before he could release himself from the confines of his jeans, he said, “Maybe we should go to the bedroom.”

Amanda looked up to meet his eyes. They were dark with lust. She let her gaze trail down his body to where he had his hand cupped around the bulge in his pants.

“Okay,” she agreed, sitting up and standing on her post-orgasm legs which barely held her upright.

Before she could get self-conscious about the situation and what they were doing, his hands landed on her hips and turned her firmly around to face the hallway. At the same time, his lips brushed down her neck. She was tempted to melt back into him, but instead she stepped forward. He mirrored her, stepping forward as well, holding her close with his hands still on her hips.

One step at a time they made their way down the hall. She could hear the speaker still spitting out his playlist. Bad Company’s Ready for Love had just started. It was a soft song that built up to a chorus that was more like rock music than the first verse.

The lamp by her bedroom window was on, casting the room in a soft, yellow glow. Luckily, the blinds were closed tonight so passersby wouldn’t see the show. Not that she was much to look at, but Danny certainly was. And as much as she didn’t really feel all that great about taking off her clothes in the lit room, she was looking forward to seeing his body.

Danny’s fingers were on the hem of her shirt, lifting it. Without letting him pull it off her, she turned around and pressed her hands to his chest. “You first,” she told him, trying to push back her natural shyness.

He raised his brows. “Me first?”

She plucked at the fabric of his shirt and lifted her eyes to meet his gaze.

He chuckled and stepped forward, forcing her to step back against the bed and sit down hard on the mattress. He was standing over her when he pulled his hoodie and shirt off in one smooth motion. She let her eyes roam over his defined upper body from his wide shoulders to his arms with lean muscles to the matching star tattoos that sat at the edges of his collarbones to the way his ribcage tapered down to his trim waist. She’d seen him shirtless before, but it was somehow very different when he was standing in her bedroom.

“You want a little striptease?” he asked with that goofy grin of his. Amanda smiled and nodded.

With a flourish, he pulled his belt out of the loops of his jeans and made a show of tossing it over the back of the chair next to her bed. A little swivel of his hips was next as he edged the jeans and his boxers down. Before they were low enough for her to see anything more than the thickening of the happy trail of hair that led to down between his legs, he reached into the back pocket of the jeans and pulled his wallet out. It took her a moment to realize that he was finding a condom. She’d completely forgotten. Hooking up was not something she did well, obviously. He held the edge of the foil packet between his teeth as he shimmied out of his pants and stepped on the socks to pull them off as well.

Amanda tried not to let her jaw drop at the sight of his naked body. His legs were muscular with bulging thighs and calves. The points of his hip bones were enticing, but the way his hard cock was proudly jutting up at his belly button now that it was free was causing heart palpitations.

He stepped toward her and bent over, mischief in his eyes. She couldn’t kiss him because he had the condom clamped between his teeth. During a moment of daring, she opened her mouth and bit the opposite corner of the wrapper. With a slight turn of her head, she’d pulled it away from him. In addition, her hands had lifted of their own accord so she could trail the tips of her fingers down his stomach. Danny was still leaning over her, his eyes holding her gaze while she continued down, finally grasping the base of his cock with her right hand.

“You do that and I’ll come in your hand,” he warned.

She laughed softly, the condom still held between her teeth.

“I’m serious,” Danny said, pulling her hands away from his body and using his weight to push her back on the bed as he crawled on top of her. “You’re making me crazy.”

Amanda laughed again and took the condom’s foil packet out of her mouth. “You’re making me crazier.”

“Good,” he replied, pulling her little cotton capris and her panties off her like it was something he did every night of his life. She was too intoxicated with the way he felt as he settled between her knees that she didn’t even think to be self-conscious until he’d pulled her shirt off and said, “Oh man, you’re beautiful.”

“You don’t have to say nice things to get me into bed. I’m already here,” she told him.

“Not being nice, just truthful,” he said, pulling the condom out of her grasp and ripping the packet open with his teeth. Watching him roll it over his cock was more erotic than she’d thought possible. Flashbacks of the previous night and the way they’d fumbled together and rushed into sex came back as he bent over and ran his tongue up the column of her neck.

“Danny,” she gasped.

“Mmm, I love when you say my name like that,” he whispered in her ear before sucking the lobe into his mouth to wet it with his tongue. And then he was kissing her mouth as he guided himself into her wet and willing body. The first time had been hurried, but this time she could feel every inch as he slipped into her.

Amanda lifted her hands and pressed her fingertips into his shoulders, urging him to go deeper or at least move so she could feel the friction of the way he filled her. Danny obliged by flexing his hips and going just a bit deeper before pulling out. The scratch of his chest hair against her nipples was amping up her desire, but he was going slow, giving her those long, steady thrusts. She wanted something more heated and rough. On impulse, she dug her nails into the skin of his upper back before dragging them up to his shoulders. It wasn’t enough to break the skin, but it would definitely leave a mark.

Danny growled into her open mouth and started pushing into her harder, more insistently. “You’re gonna make me lose my mind doing shit like that,” he said, dragging his lips down to the tops of her breasts and then back up to her neck. Suddenly his right hand was cupping her breast, rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger as he sucked on her neck.

The combination was overwhelming. She was just surrounded by Danny’s mouth, hands, cock. His body blocked out the world; it was just the two of them in the middle of her bed. His tongue pressed into her mouth again, stealing her breath as he snapped his hips forward to bottom out in her.

She could feel her pleasure building as he bent to suck her nipples into his mouth, first the right then the left. And then he was kissing her again, his tongue thrusting into her mouth just like he was thrusting with his cock. She couldn’t take it any longer; Amanda shoved her hand between her legs where their bodies collided and ran the pad of her middle finger down and then up her clit. The combination of the sensation paired with everything else he was doing to her, including his mouth on the tender skin of her neck, sent her over the edge.

A moan that was almost more of a groan escaped her mouth. Danny gasped and started moving faster, more erratically. As she rode the wave of her orgasm, she could feel his stiff, movements as he chased down his own satisfaction. Within a few seconds, he came with a low groan of pleasure that sent shivers down her spine.

For a long moment, they both remained tangled up in each other, her legs wound tight around his body. As their breathing returned to normal, Danny rolled over onto his back, but this time he pulled her with him so she was nearly on top of him.

Amanda pressed her forehead to his collarbone until she felt the light touch of his fingers running through her hair, pushing it away from her temples. She looked up to see him watching her. “You okay?” he asked.

“I'm okay,” she told him with a grin.

Danny flashed her one of his big smiles and tweaked her nose with his thumb and forefinger. She laid her head down on his chest and hoped that he’d stay just a bit longer. Maybe until she fell asleep and then he could creep out for the walk of shame back to his place.

* * *

It was hard not to think about her while he was doing the radio show. Her fingerprints were all over the playlist from Iration to Fleetwood Mac to Feist and even the Bad Company song she’d suggested. He hadn’t talked to her since the previous night when they’d slept together. It was a silly phrase because they hadn’t done any sleeping. After they’d had sex, they’d stayed in her bed and talked about stupid shit for almost an hour. And, against his real desire to pull the covers over both of them and stay the night, he’d crawled out of her bed and pulled on his clothes.

He’d known Thursday morning practice was going to be a bitch and then they were headed out of town early Friday for a couple East Coast games in New York and Boston. Plus, he had a late night at the radio station planned before that, so he didn’t have much time to spare, even for her. He also kept telling himself that staying the night with a friend you were having sex with was a no-no. Staying the night led to more intimacy and a relationship. They were already intimate enough. Plus, he had one foot out of Chicago.

Official talks hadn’t commenced, but he was doubtful Chicago wanted to fork over the money to keep him around another season. He was a patch for the year, not a long-term investment. That’s how things went for players like him when they hit their thirties. The clock was ticking, and he was hoping to delay it for another season before this one even ended. Which meant his agent was testing the waters with a handful of other teams to see if they might be interested in him. He didn’t need the stress of dealing with a relationship when push came to shove and he had to pack his bags to leave. She didn’t deserve that kind of treatment.

There was something else nagging at the back of his mind, though. It was probably that she didn’t deserve to be his no-strings-attached fuck either. But now that he knew what he was missing, it was hard to say no. Especially when she was willing. Danny just hoped the entire thing didn’t blow up in his face this summer when he left town. That was a worry for another day. Right now he was worried about the last few games of the season and what the hell he was going to say when the song wrapped up.

As the smooth reggae track ended, he cleared his voice and flipped on his mic. “That was the unmistakable Bob Marley singing one of his more popular songs: Is This Love. It was originally released on his seventy-eight album Kaya. The list of artists from every genre imaginable that have covered this one is pretty long, guys. Hit me up on Twitter if you have a favorite cover.”

And then he hit the button to play the cart with the commercials. Amanda hadn’t suggested the Marley song, but it still reminded him of her, and he wasn’t sure why. Actually, that was a lie. He’d been fantasizing about a lazy Sunday morning in her bed with the song playing. But entertaining that thought was dangerous. And he wasn’t in love. That was crazy.

Danny shook his head and tried to focus on his notes for the next track.

* * *

His phone had been dinging with direct messages and mentions on Twitter since before the radio show had ended the night before. Since he put so much work into the show and was always afraid it wouldn’t live up to expectations, he’d been avoiding reading the comments. Now it was almost eight o’clock in the morning, and he was getting ready to board the plane to New York. He usually wasn’t this early, but the last crunch before playoffs and not knowing if he’d have a job in the NHL were making him anxious lately. And Amanda. She was making him anxious, too. Happy, but anxious. They hadn’t talked since Wednesday night and now it was Friday morning. It had taken every ounce of willpower not to call her on Thursday night after the show, not to swing by her place.

He settled into his seat and pulled up his messages, checking Twitter first. There were over fifty mentions in tweets about the best cover of Is This Love. He’d asked for opinions, but didn’t think he’d be getting so much feedback. It made him feel good. A few people had tweeted him to let him know that they enjoyed the show. His handler at WGN had e-mailed him, congratulating him on the positive response they’d gotten about the show the previous night.

He made his way through the notifications and then pulled up his texts. There were a few friends of his, even a couple guys on the team, that had sent him texts about enjoying the show. And then there was a text from her. His immediate thought was that he’d wished he’d seen it last night when she’d sent it.

Amanda: I don’t have twitter, but #isthislovecover - Allen Stone

She’d sent a link to a YouTube video below. Danny fished his earbuds out of his pocket and plugged them into his phone before he tapped on the link.

He knew who Allen Stone was, but he wasn’t all that familiar with his music. He was an up and comer who’d been self-releasing albums for a couple years, though. The video was professional quality, but of Stone in his mother’s living room with a band. He looked like a gangly, awkward kid with thick glasses and messy reddish-blonde hair that was hidden underneath a black beanie. He actually looked like somebody Danny would like.

The music was smooth and well-played, but it definitely took a back seat to Stone’s vocals. His voice was soulful and almost reminiscent of someone like Stevie Wonder. Within just a few seconds, Danny knew that he loved it. But that came as no surprise when he remembered that Amanda had sent him the link. He wished he could spend the night in her house listening to music. He could try to cook dinner and fuck it up. She could laugh at him and then they could make their way to her bed so he could get her naked. The two times they’d been together had gone too fast. Once their clothes had come off, he’d just lost his ability to stop.

It was still early, but maybe she was up. He closed YouTube before the song finished and pulled up his contact list so he could dial her number. After three long rings, she answered in a soft voice. Danny winced. She’d been asleep.

“I woke you,” he said.

“No, I should be up already. I need to get back to the nine to five schedule.” Her voice commanded his attention like no one else’s. Danny closed his eyes.

“When do you start the new job?”

“Next week on Tuesday.”

“Are you excited?”

She laughed softly. “I am. Thank you for helping me land it.”

Danny shook his head. “Nah, you did all that. I just gave him your name.”

“Still, thank you.”

“I got your text this morning. I was whooped after the show last night and a little afraid of a shitty reaction from Twitter.”

That soft chuckle again. “One day you’ll figure out that people love your show.”

“Sorry I didn’t text you back last night.”

After a brief moment of silence she said, “It’s okay. You’re busy and I don’t have any claim on you.”

The statement was true, but it made him feel weird. It felt like she did have some sort of claim on him even if they weren’t anything more than friends. Friends who’d been sleeping together, but whatever. That shit happened nowadays, especially with guys in his line of work. It’s not like he hadn’t fucked around with girls just for the fun of it before.

“Yeah, but I like talking with you about music and... anything.”

“I like talking with you, too, Danny.”

The way she said his name made him wish he was over at her place so he could kiss her or touch her whatever she’d let him do. He could remember the way she felt on his lap a couple nights before. Knowing that he’d be out of town and unable to see her for a few days made him frustrated and unhappy. Which was bad because that wasn’t the way things were supposed to be going. Things were supposed to be casual and whenever, not necessary and needed.

* * *

It was Sunday night when he got back into town. They’d boarded the plane around six-thirty after their afternoon game in Boston. The flight back and the timezone change meant he was leaving the airport at just after nine o’clock. Danny’s intention had been to drive home and crash after the two away games. His reality, though, was pulling into Amanda’s driveway and knocking on her door at almost ten o’clock in the evening.

She pulled open the door, looking surprised to see him. He was just as surprised to see her with her hair down and her body encased in a satin nightgown that hit her a little higher than mid-thigh. “Danny, what are you doing here?”

The thin little straps and low neckline gave him a great view of her shoulders and chest. Her tits were pressed up against the material of the gown and it was very obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra. “Just got back into town and thought I’d drop by on my way home. You got a hot date?”

Her brows furrowed. “What?”

“The sexy nightgown,” he explained as she moved back to let him in. He stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

“Oh. No,” she laughed softly. “I... I found it in the closet and hadn’t worn it in so long. Felt like maybe putting it on and feeling like a girl again could be part of my moving on process.”

Danny watched as she crossed the room to turn down the music that she was playing. It was something with a sexy beat. He didn’t register who was singing because he was too intent on her. The back of the nightie barely covered her ass, giving him a great view of her legs. His cock was already halfway erect, and he hadn’t even touched her. Sure, he’d dropped by because he’d been craving her, but he hadn’t expected the overwhelming desire to fuck her against the wall. He’d assumed they’d hang out, catch up, and then take things to her bed.

“I didn’t expect you,” she said, lowering the volume a little. “When did you get back into town?”

Danny didn’t answer her. Instead he walked up behind her. She turned around, eyes wide, like she didn’t know she was driving him crazy.

“Danny, what are you...” she trailed off when he stepped up so his body was pressed against hers, his hands going to her hips. She took a step back, and he took a step forward. Two more steps and her back was against the wall.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” he admitted before dipping his head to press a kiss on her neck. The way she sighed and slipped her arms up and over his shoulders made him feel like a million bucks.

“Not as much as I’ve been thinking about you,” Amanda assured him. It just wasn’t possible. He’d been unable to think about anything but seeing her since he’d woken up that morning. The game in Boston sucked; the Bruins beat them four to one. He didn’t give a shit because he knew she would be there to make him feel like he was a king.

Danny trailed his lips up along her jawline and then brushed them over her lips. She arched into him, kissing him, sliding her tongue into his mouth. Danny’s control broke, and he bunched up the slinky material of her nightie in his hands as he lifted it. His hand slipped between her legs and pulled the crotch of her underwear aside. She was dripping wet and so ready for him that he felt light-headed.

Amanda moaned into his mouth as he stroked her with his middle finger. Instead of going slow, like he’d told himself he’d do the next time he got her alone, he pulled the condom out of his pocket and unzipped his slacks. His cock was more than willing to pop out of the flap in his boxers, ready for action. It only took him a couple seconds to sheath it in the latex and another to grab her ass and lift her up. Wedging her between the wall and his body, he used a free hand to guide himself inside her.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, arching her body into his as she pushed her upper back against the wall. The way her pussy tightened around him drove him insane. He couldn’t help but thrust into her, hard and fast. And, thankfully, she didn’t sound like she had any complaints.

Her fingers were wound around the strands of his hair, pulling just enough for the pain to be pleasurable. After what seemed like a terribly short time, she stiffened in his arms and let out a strangled cry. If that hadn’t tipped her hand then the way her body was squeezing his cock let him know that she’d just come all over him. Danny’s lust went through the roof and with just a few more strokes, he came as well.

“You are such a good distraction from my life,” she said through gasping breaths in a dreamy voice.

Danny’s initial reaction wasn’t what he’d expected. Distraction. He didn’t want to be a distraction. He wanted to be important. But that’s the box they’d put each other in with the sex: distraction from life, the world, troubles. Her with her grief and navigating without her grandmother. Him with his concerns on his career and abilities.

Carefully, he lowered her to the floor and smoothed the nightgown over her hips. He quickly pulled the used condom off and tucked himself back into this slacks as he walked down the hall to drop it in the bathroom trash.

She’d followed him down the hall, passing up the bathroom and going into her bedroom. Danny tried to suppress his shit-eating grin and followed her. She pulled back the covers and slipped between the sheets on the left side. He waited until she was settled before he joined her in the small bed. They lied on their sides, facing each other.

He watched as she absently chewed on her lower lip. She was undoing his tie and sliding it off. Then she unbuttoned the first two buttons on his dress shirt. The jacket was forgotten in the passenger seat of his car and he’d kicked his shoes off at the foot of her bed. “Sorry you lost today,” she whispered, placing one of her delicate hands on his chest.

The game seemed so far away. “It’s fine. Can’t win them all,” he said. “You been okay?”

“Yeah, I’ve been okay.”

He shifted closer and wrapped his arms around her. She melted into him without an ounce of resistance, tucking her head underneath his chin, her breath puffing against his chest where the shirt was parted. Maybe he’d just stay like this for an hour before going home. It felt so good.


	5. Chapter 5

She’d finished her second day at her new job, and she was absolutely in love with the place. She had her own cubicle, which she’d already decorated with a couple pictures and a few of her owl figurines that she’d picked up a yard sales with her grandmother years ago. All her programming knowledge was swiftly coming back to her as she started work on the project that they’d hired her for. Her co-workers were all helpful and welcoming; two of the women in the office had taken her to lunch on her first day. And, if all that wasn’t enough, it was a significant raise and more of a time commitment than the Blackhawks gig. She was going in at eight in the morning and leaving at five. Though, her first two days she’d stayed until a little after six. It felt great to have her time occupied and to stop worrying about paying the bills.

Danny’d had a home game the previous night and as much as she hated to admit it, she wished he’d have come over afterward. He didn’t. Although, he did text her the next morning and ask what her plans were for that evening. Feeling happy for the first time in a long time, Amanda had responded, saying she was hoping she’d be seeing him naked.

He’d quickly texted back that all her dreams would come true that evening after work. Little did he know that her dreams involved him asking her to marry him. She’d never actually wanted to marry anyone she’d dated until Daniel Carcillo came along and just dropped her defenses like it was the easiest thing in the world. They weren’t even dating, so marriage was almost laughable. They were fucking when neither of them didn’t get pulled away by work. Sure, that was better than nothing, but it definitely wasn’t her idea of a dream come true.

Before she even had a chance to change out of the skirt suit she’d worn to work, he was knocking on her door with a pizza box in hand.

“I brought dinner,” he told her before dropping the box on the kitchen counter and backing her up against the wall. Amanda felt her eyes roll back in her head as he pressed fluttering kisses down the column of her neck.

“Aren’t you hungry?” she asked in a dreamy voice.

“Mmm, hmm,” he answered softly. “For you.”

Amanda chuckled and ran the fingers of both her hands through his wild hair while he placed kisses along her jawline and pulled her blouse out of her skirt. “Danny,” she warned, “If you don’t stop we’re going to end up on the kitchen floor.”

Not that she’d mind. The kitchen floor was alright with her.

“Or the table,” he said, working on the buttons of her blouse.

“What?” she asked, her voice thick with laughter. “Are you going to bend me over the table?”

He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her away from the wall. Two steps and he’d spun her around, her back to him, and then she felt her hands and chest hit the wood of the breakfast nook table. The flames of lust shot through her body like wildfire when she realized he was already hiking her skirt up and pulling her panties down her legs.

After pulling in a shaky breath in a feeble attempt at calming her hormones, she glanced over her shoulder to see him discard a condom wrapper carelessly on the floor before adjusting himself and sliding into her slowly. She was ready, probably had been ready since that morning when he’d alluded to sex in the text messages. The brief, yet overwhelming, make out session had also gotten her motor running for him.

Danny picked up the pace, thrusting his hips forward in sharp movements. “You look so hot in your skirt suits,” he said through clenched teeth. “That day you met me for lunch after your interview... I went home and jerked off thinking about you.”

His admission made her dizzy with desire. All that time and he’d been thinking about her in this way just like she’d been thinking of him. Emboldened, Amanda pushed herself back to meet his thrust, feeling his grip on her hips tighten. She pushed back again and felt him lower his body onto hers. His chest was now pressed against her back, though she regrettably couldn’t feel much through the fabric of her blouse and jacket. She could definitely feel the way his cock was rubbing against the wall of her pussy each time he pressed in or pulled out, though. A moment later she could also feel the pad of his middle finger sliding across her engorged clit.

“Danny,” she gasped.

His mouth was just behind her left ear, and she could hear his erratic breathing. “I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he said.

“Don’t stop,” Amanda managed to plea. And he didn’t. He pressed her into the wooden tabletop while he fucked her from behind. She didn’t mind one bit that it wasn’t sweet or romantic because he felt like heaven inside her while he worked her with the fingers of his right hand.

After what felt like both forever and just a minute, he pressed his mouth to her ear and said, “You have to come. I can’t hold on anymore.”

Another flash of that white hot lust shot through her from her core out into her body. “Oh my god, Danny,” she moaned.

“Come on,” he urged her. “Let me feel you.”

And that was all it took. A request from his sweet lips, the sensation of being filled and surrounded by him, and a touch of his finger as it glided wetness right across her clit. She came with a rough cry, and he followed right after with a rumbling groan.

The clock in the kitchen ticked the seconds away loudly. The only other sound in the house was their labored breaths. After what was probably only a few seconds, but felt like minutes, Amanda started laughing softly. Danny joined her, his body shaking atop hers. Slowly, he removed his hand from between her legs and used the other to smooth her hair to the side so he could press a sweet kiss to the tender spot behind her ear.

She looked over her shoulder at him as he stood up and disposed of the condom in the trashcan by the fridge. Amanda pulled her skirt down and watched him zip his jeans back up.

“I needed that,” he told her. “It’s been a hell of a day.”

He’d been her shoulder to cry on for so long that she felt a thrill at the thought of returning the favor. “Come on and let’s talk about it.”

“Nah, I don’t want to bother you with my stupid shit.”

She snagged his hand as she walked by. His fingers flexed as he held onto hers. “You promised me I’d get to see you naked and I haven’t yet.”

Danny laughed and followed her into the living room. “The night is young.”

“And my bed is a great place to talk,” she told him.

He really didn’t need much convincing. Once they were standing in her bedroom, the blinds closed and the curtains drawn, he started stripping. It was unlike what she’d seen from him before. His mind was elsewhere, and this wasn’t a show or foreplay, this was just him pulling off his layers so he could get into her bed. She unzipped the skirt and shed the blouse at the same time as her jacket. Danny was already naked and lying in her bed when she unhooked her bra. His eyes were dark and watching her intently. Slowly, she crawled up next to him and closed her eyes as his arms went around her without a second thought.

As she settled onto her side with Danny spooning her from behind, she said, “Tell me about your day.”

He sighed and adjusted his arm around her middle. “Tell me about yours first.”

Amanda smiled even though he couldn’t see her face. “It was good. My second day at the new job. I decorated my cube and had lunch in the breakroom with a couple women who work next to me.”

“Do you like the job?” His voice was soft and intimate just behind her.

“I do. Thank you for helping me get it.”

“Like I said, I didn’t get it for you. You got it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say,” she teased. “Now you tell me about your day.”

Another sigh, this one deeper than the last, and then several beats of silence. She didn’t prod him any further, and it took several more seconds before he finally spoke up. “I had to go to the team doctor today. The hit on Vanek last night... it fucked me up a little.”

Amanda felt her body stiffen. “What do you mean?”

“They won’t let me play until the symptoms subside.”

“What symptoms?”

Another sigh. “Concussion. I felt like shit most of the day. Headache, dizziness. I can’t play like that.”

Amanda turned in his arms so she could face him. His eyes fluttered open to look at her face. “How are you feeling now?”

“Better now that I’m in bed with you,” he said with a weak grin.

“No, really. How do you feel?” she repeated, running a hand through his hair to push it away from his face.

“Okay. It’s just... I hate going through this. You never know when it will go away and you never know when you wake up what kind of day you’re going to have, if you’ll even be able to go outside.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?” she asked, her heart aching for him while her mind raced with worry.

Danny gave his head a couple shakes. “No, I’ll be fine. Just frustrated.”

“With the concussion or because you can’t play?”

“Because I can’t play mostly. I mean, we’ve got a few more games before the season is over. Then playoffs. And I don’t even know if they’ll let me play in the first round.”

She smoothed his hair back again and watched as he closed his eyes. “You need to get well before you can play.”

“I need to step up so Chicago will keep me around another year. If I end the season with an injury, then they’re not going to give me a second thought for next season.”

She’d be lying if she said that his comment didn’t make her anxious. If Danny didn’t stay with the Blackhawks then her time with him was over. They weren’t dating; she had no claim. He’d move on to the next city and the next girl, and she’d be yesterday’s news. The thought made her feel like shit both for thinking so poorly of him and because she’d let herself agree to a relationship in which she was not much more than a good fuck.

“You need to focus on your health,” she finally said.

He opened his eyes and gave her a soft smile. “Who are you? My mom?”

“Do you get naked and lie in bed with your mom?”

He balked and then chuckled. “That’s gross.” And then his arms pulled her closer so she was smashed up against his chest while one of his legs insinuated itself between hers.

“What are you doing to get better?”

“Mostly resting. That’s really all you can do until the symptoms go away. Can’t play until that happens. Can’t even practice with the team.”

“Don’t worry so much about the future, Danny. Just worry about today and then tomorrow. And when the times comes, you can worry about next season. But don’t do that until this one is over.”

After a moment, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I took your advice and asked WGN about making my show a permanent fixture on their schedule.”

“Really?” She was surprised. “When?”

“Last week. I emailed the director of programming and asked him if it was something they’d be interested in.”

“What did he say?”

Danny shrugged and pulled her close again. “Nothing yet. Said he was going to mention it at their programming meeting in a couple weeks. I guess they’ll let me know then. Don’t have high hopes for it, though.”

“That’s a big step. Would you ever leave the NHL to host the show?”

Another big sigh. “I don’t know. I don’t expect them to say yes, but if they do, then I don’t know if I could go through with it. Hell, hockey has been my life since forever. I... I don’t know if I’m prepared to give that up.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “That must be a tough decision.”

“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted in a sad, defeated voice. It was a shock hearing him sound so beaten when he was always the one who’d cheered her up.

Amanda smoothed his hair back again and looked him in the eyes. “You’ll figure it out when the time comes. Just do what feels right.”

“Easier said than done,” he said with that silly grin.

“I know you’ll make the best choice for yourself, Danny. You’ve done a hell of a job so far. Look at you living your NHL dream. Playing for the Blackhawks and winning the Cup. Not too shabby for a music nerd.”

His smile got bigger. “And I managed to talk my way into this beautiful woman’s bed.” She felt his hands roam down her back, one dropping to cup her ass.

“Who is she? I’m jealous,” Amanda quipped.

“She’s right here, and I’m kicking myself for only bringing one condom.”

Amanda smiled. “What would you say if I told you I bought a box and put them in the nightstand drawer since I’m getting some action from his sexy guy who plays hockey and likes good music.”

Danny rolled on top of her, using one arm to hold some of his weight up while he searched the drawer with his other hand. Impressively, he managed to tear the cardboard box open and pull out a string of six condoms. Amanda reached up and ripped one off so he could throw the others on the floor.

“You cannot be ready to go again,” she laughed.

“Wanna bet?” he shot back.

* * *

“Aren’t you supposed to rest and avoid strenuous activity if you have a concussion?” she said, a hand over her rapidly rising and falling chest. They’d just had sex for the second time since he’d walked through her door on this Tuesday evening. They hadn’t even eaten dinner; the pizza he’d brought was still sitting on her kitchen counter getting cold.

Danny could feel a slight throb in the back of his head. She was probably right; sex wasn’t really in the doctor’s orders for concussion recovery. She was just too hard to resist when she was playing with his hair and pressing her naked body up against his like that.

“Sex is a stress reliever,” he fibbed.

Amanda turned onto her side, holding the sheet over her body, and rolled her eyes at him. “That’s a weak argument.”

Danny shrugged. “Come eat with me. I have a question to ask you,” he told her before sitting up and reaching for his boxers on the floor by the bed. Although, he forgot all about them when she scurried out of the bed and flashed him her naked ass as she grabbed a little gray cotton robe which was hanging on the closet door.

“What’s your question?” she asked as she tied the sash around her waist and turned to look at him. Danny had pulled his boxers on by then and had settled for just throwing on the T-shirt, leaving the rest of his clothes on her bedroom floor.

“Let’s eat first,” he said.

She gave him a suspicious look, but followed him into the kitchen. Truth be told, he was a little nervous about asking her what he wanted. He was afraid she’d say no. Or afraid that she’d think he was overstepping the bounds of their friends with benefits arrangement. And he really was if you looked at it without all the million excuses he’d devised to make it seem okay in his head.

After they’d sat down at the table--the one he’d fucked her on an hour ago--and eaten a couple slices of pizza each, he cleared his throat.

“So, there’s this team dinner. They have it every year at the end of the regular season. The organization goes all out, rents a ballroom in one of the swanky hotels downtown, all that shit. I was thinking maybe you’d go with me.”

Amanda’s eyes widened and she put down the third slice that she’d picked up to eat. “What?”

“I mean, we could go as friends. Not like a real date or anything.” It sounded lame as fuck. He was sleeping with her and asking her to come to a team dinner with him. It was a date if he ever saw one.

“I... I don’t know. Why do you want to go with me?”

“Because I like spending time with you,” Danny replied, furrowing his brow at her reaction. He’d expected her to call him on the non-date thing, not question why he wanted to go with her.

“Wouldn’t that be kinda weird? People would think I’m your... date.”

“Yeah, but who cares what people think. I just want to have a good time, and I always have a good time with you.”

She took two bites of the pizza and chewed carefully before finally saying, “Is it, like, super formal?”

“Kinda formal. Will you go with me?” Danny held her gaze with his, not looking away and begging her with his eyes. If she didn’t go with him, then he’d go alone. He didn’t care to spend time with anyone else. Another sign of impending danger that he was about to fuck this arrangement up royally.

“Maybe.”

“Come on,” he begged her. “Please.”

Amanda shook her head at him, trying to suppress that gorgeous smile of hers. “Yeah, okay. Fine.”

* * *

He’d been out of for two back-to-back road games, even though he couldn’t play. They’d flown back into town late Friday night, arriving in the wee hours of Saturday morning. The team dinner was that night and they all had a rare day off. No practice, no game, no traveling. They even had Sunday off after the dinner. Danny had plans of his own that involved spending the majority of the weekend with Amanda.

It took a great amount of willpower not to call or text her until six o’clock on Saturday night so he could make sure she’d be ready for him to pick her up around seven. Earlier that day, he’d changed the sheets on his bed and cleaned up his condo. He’d even dusted off his turntable that he hadn’t used in too long. The warm sound of a record beat out a digital download any day of the week. If he got his way, then Amanda would be coming back to his place to listen to records and spend the night. If he was going to jeopardize their friends with benefits arrangement, then he was going to go all out and milk it for everything he could.

He did all that knowing that he had a decision coming up, and he was probably going to choose to leave Chicago for one of the other teams that had expressed initial interest--the Panthers or the Coyotes. No promises had been made, no contracts offered, but they’d both seemed very interested according to his agent. That was probably due in part to the pay cut he’d likely take. Neither team was going to offer him more than four-fifty, which amounted to a one hundred grand cut. But it was better than being out of work.

WGN had called late on Friday just before the game and extended an offer to keep him on the radio. It seemed half-hearted as they appeared to believe he’d be choosing hockey. They’d offered him a whopping thirty thousand a year to hire him as a permanent fixture on their station. It was probably generous by radio standards, but hard to swallow when he was currently pulling in over half a million a year. Danny hadn’t given it much thought, but he was pretty sure he’d decline the offer and roll his dice with the Panthers or Coyotes.

Shoving the career worries to the back of his mind, he pulled his car into Amanda’s driveway and suddenly got nervous After getting out, he checked his reflection in the window of his car to make sure his tie was straight and his hair was slicked back away from his face. She met him at the door, and he nearly told her that they’d just spend the night in her bed. She was wearing the dress he’d picked from her grandmother’s closet--strapless and red with a thin black belt that accentuated her waist. Her hair was curled into loose waves that framed her face and her makeup was understated.

“You look gorgeous,” he blurted out before he’d taken the three short steps to get up to the stoop.

Amanda smiled shyly. “I found a place that would take in the dress. They just finished it this morning. I was worried it wouldn’t be done in time.”

“You look amazing in it.” He felt like a teenager on his way to prom with his hands shoved in the pockets of his slacks while he stole glances at her.

“Ready to go?” she asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded eagerly and led the way to his car. She locked up the house and followed him. For a moment, he considered warning her that she should pack a little bag with her toothbrush and a pair of underwear since he had no intention of bringing her back to her place tonight. But that would be presumptuous. He needed to see how the evening went.

“I get to ride in your fancy-smancy car?” she asked, walking over to the passenger door and opening it before he even realized that he should have opened it for her. Or should he have? This wasn’t a date. This was just her going with him as a friend.

Danny dropped into the driver’s seat and looked over at her. She was adjusting her skirt. “You can ride in my fancy-smancy car anytime you want,” he told her. And he meant every word of it.

“Well, start it up and let’s get going. I’m nervous that I’m going to embarrass you and be awkward at this thing. I haven’t been out of the house in years, so this is going to be an adventure.”

Yeah, he thought, an adventure. The motor turned over and then roared to life beneath the hood.

* * *

She didn’t need to worry about embarrassing him because the minute they walked through the doors of the ballroom, he felt proud that she was the woman beside him. They entered side-by-side, but weren’t holding hands. That was a couple gesture, and they weren’t a couple. Toews and his girlfriend were standing near the door and intercepted Danny and Amanda.

Danny clasped hands with the younger man and used his other hand to clap him on the back. “Long time, no see, Captain. Almost twenty-four hours, eh?”

Toews’ eyes went from Danny to Amanda and back again. It was obvious he’d recognized her. That was no real surprise since he was one of the most observant guys Danny had ever met. “Glad you could make it,” Toews said with a questioning look in his eyes.

Danny let go of the younger man’s hand and moved his to the small of Amanda’s back. “This is my friend Amanda.”

Toews’ unasked question of whether Danny was dating their former laundry girl went unanswered.

Amanda shook hands with Toews’ girlfriend and then him. “Nice to meet you both,” she said with a genuine smile.

“We’re gonna go grab some drinks,” Danny told the couple and then steered Amanda over to the refreshments table. He didn’t drink any nowadays, not after the trouble he’d had weaning himself off painkillers, but he did grab a soda for himself and a glass of champagne for her.

“Thanks,” she said, taking the flute and downing a healthy gulp of the fizzy drink. “This is super fancy.” Her eyes were wide as she looked around the room, taking in the chandeliers and the arrangements of flowers on the large tables covered in pristine, white tablecloths. Over half the team and support staff were already milling around the room.

“Yeah, not my scene,” Danny replied, bumping his shoulder lightly against hers.

“Not mine either,” she said.

“You look like you belong here,” he told her. And it wasn’t just to make her feel better. She did look like she belonged there with the delicate crystal and the intricate, spotless carpet.

“Very funny, Danny,” she told him with a roll of her eyes.

He didn’t have a chance to respond before Sharpie and his wife came over. Sharpie’s brows were raised and he had a shit-eating grin on his face like he was ready to give Danny hell over liking a girl that none of them had met. Only they had met her; they just didn’t realize it.

“Who’s this?” Sharpie asked.

His wife smacked him lightly on the shoulder and extended her hand to Amanda. “Abby, nice to meet you.”

Amanda smiled back. “Likewise. I’m Amanda.” She tilted her head in Danny’s direction. “I’m a friend of Danny’s.”

Danny cut off Sharpie’s response with a stern look. Instead Sharpie said, “How long have you two been friends?”

“A couple months. She’s been helping me out with the radio show,” Danny replied.

“Oh, that’s so cool,” Abby said. Danny watched Amanda nod and say something to Abby, but he didn’t really hear it. All he could hear was a rushing in his ears as he watched her smile and nod. It felt like they’d been dating, not just friends for the past two months. And the way Brandon Saad was standing a few yards away running his eyes up and down Amanda’s body was giving him intense feelings of possessive jealousy.

“Thought you were friends,” Sharpie whispered to Danny while looking over at Saad as well.

“We are,” Danny replied through clenched teeth. Maybe this was a huge mistake.

“Seems like you’re about to deck Saad for looking at your friend.”

“I’m protective,” Danny muttered.

“Hmmm,” Sharpie replied in a smug tone that Danny hated. “That’s interesting.”

* * *

Once the formal dinner had started and a few speeches were given before the appetizers were brought around, things got easier. He was able to focus more of his attention on Amanda and less on the troublemakers on the team who either wanted answers or wanted to chirp him for bringing a date. A date wasn’t a big deal, but this wasn’t the event where you wanted to bring a new date. It was like bringing someone you just met to a wedding. You just didn’t do that kind of thing. Except, there was no one Danny wanted to go with besides her.

Dinner was great--filet mignon with fancy vegetables that he couldn’t identify and might not be able to pronounce. Amanda laughed at his stupid jokes and smiled at anyone who said hello to her and carried on perfectly normal conversations with anyone who wanted to talk. And she never left his side, which made him feel like a million bucks even if he was nervous that one of the guys would say something to disrupt the precarious balance he had with her being his friend and his date. Or non-date. Whatever.

After dessert, everyone got up to stretch their legs and talk to people they hadn’t had a chance to before dinner started. Danny never liked these things anyway and Amanda being with him just made it slightly more tolerable. “What do you say to skipping out early?” he asked. Fucking Brandon Saad was staring at her legs again. He had no reason to be jealous. Saad wasn’t about to make a move on Danny’s date and Amanda wasn’t the type of girl who’d go along with it even if the kid grew balls and came over. But he didn’t like when another man looked at her like that when Danny didn’t have her locked down as his girlfriend. And that sure as shit was never going to happen when he told her that he was probably relocating after the playoffs wrapped up.

“Okay, let’s go,” she replied with a hand on her shoulder. Danny wrapped his arm around her waist and directed her to the exit.

“How do you feel about seeing my place?”

“Right now?”

“I have tomorrow off. So do you. And I changed my sheets this morning. They smell great.”

Amanda laughed as they got to the door. “Do I get to stay the night?”

“You get whatever you want.”

Part of him hoped she’d say she wanted him to stick around for her. Not that he could do that, but it’d make him feel good. Toews was a few yards away with raised eyebrows. Danny knew he looked like a little more than a friend to Amanda, but he didn’t give a fuck at this point.

“Then I want to stay the night,” she said, leaning into him as they walked out the door and into the lobby of the hotel.

* * *

He wanted to get her out of the dress, but he didn’t want to be a pushy creep. She was standing in his sparse living room, flipping through the records on a custom made bookcase that held hundreds he’d collected over the years. She looked beautiful, but the funny feeling in his chest had nothing to do with wanting to fuck her.

“This is an amazing collection,” she told him, glancing over her shoulder.

“Nothing like vinyl,” he replied, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

“And you even have new stuff. I didn’t know they released this on vinyl.” She held up Hozier’s album.

“Yeah, I picked it up at a place in Denver the last time we played there.”

“Do you mind?” she asked, pointing to his turntable.

Danny shrugged and waved his hand to tell her to go ahead. He watched as she carefully pulled the record out and examined the ridges. She did it with the care of someone who wasn’t too familiar with records. That wasn’t really surprising; he hadn’t seen any in her house. He quickly realized she didn’t need any help when she flipped the turntable’s power on and easily dropped the record in place.

“Let’s see if I can get the song I want,” she said, bending over and laying the needle down carefully. She caught the empty space between two tracks. Suddenly, the humming and handclaps of Work Song were flowing out of his speakers. “Damn, I’m good,” she told him as she turned around.

Danny was impressed that she’d been able to find the song she wanted. It was a seductive one, a low pounding rhythm ran through the backbone of it. “You look so pretty in that dress,” he said before he was able to censor himself.

Amanda sat down on the arm of the couch. Her dress brushed his arm. “You’re too sweet to me. You’ll make me like you too much.”

Yeah, he didn’t need that. He didn’t need to break her heart when he left. Instead of opening his big, fat mouth again, he swept his arm up and around her, tipping her off the perch on the arm of the couch and into his lap. Her skirt flipped up, giving him a great view of her legs.

“Danny!” she squealed, wiggling around on his lap so she could pull herself into an upright position. The movement made his cock so hard he could barely stand it.

He helped her sit up on his lap, her legs dangling off one of his legs and her ass seated firmly on the other. Bracing her back with one of his arms, he leaned in and kissed her. She kissed him back, and he felt like he was falling again. One minute he was sitting on his couch and the next he was tumbling through the proverbial air and grabbing onto her.

“Let’s go to bed,” he told her when she pulled back for a breath.

“Okay,” she whispered, touching his bottom lip with her fingertips.

Danny pushed her up so she was standing in front of him. When he stood, she leaned into his body and ran her fingers through his hair. “Are you cleared for this? I don’t want to make your concussion worse.”

He smiled and wrapped his arms around her, backing her down the hall to his bedroom. “You might have to be on top,” he said.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mmm, hmm,” he said, letting her go once they were through his door. The bed was turned down and waiting for her. He’d been working all day for this moment. She could roll on his sheets and leave her scent everywhere so he could sleep with her for the next week, even if she wasn’t there in the bed with him. Because friends with benefits didn’t sleep at each others’ places every night like he wanted to.

While she surveyed the room, he stepped up behind her and slid the zipper of her dress down. It went all the way to the small of her back before it stopped. Amanda’s hands came around and popped the clasp of her strapless bra. It easily fell away from her body with the bodice of the dress. She shimmied out of the skirt and let the dress fall on the floor, leaving her in in a pair of red lace panties and red heels.

Danny swallowed and pulled in a deep breath. “Oh, man,” he muttered, pulling at the knot of his tie so he could loosen it and pull the damn thing off his neck.

Amanda stepped up and carefully brushed away his fumbling hands before she pulled the knot out of his tie and slid it off. Her hands then dropped to his shirt, undoing each button, starting at his collar and ending at the hem of the shirt after she’d pulled it out of his pants. Danny undid the fly of his dress pants while she pushed the white shirt off his shoulders. He stepped out of the pants and toed his shoes off in the same movement. Her hands were underneath his undershirt, pushing it up his stomach and chest. Absently, he pulled the thing over his head so he could feel her skin against his.

“Sit down,” he told her, shifting his eyes behind her to the foot of his bed.

Without question, she did as he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed with her knees together. Her tits were gorgeous and all he wanted to do was jump on her, cover her body with his, push her panties to the side and bury himself inside her. Instead, he dropped to his knees in front of her and lifted her left foot, carefully removing her shoe. She sank her teeth into her bottom lip as he pulled off her other shoe and ran his hands up her calves.

“Lift up,” he whispered. He curled his fingers into the sides of her panties and pulled them down her legs when she lifted her hips up to help him.

Danny wedged his body between her knees, pushing them wider apart. The spot between her legs was glistening with moisture. They’d slept together a few times, but oral sex hadn’t been part of the deal. It somehow seemed more intimate, and he hadn’t wanted to press his luck with her. But now he couldn’t resist as he pushed her knees even further apart and lowered his mouth. Tentatively, he ran his tongue up her slit, tasting her as he went.

“Oh my god,” she gasped, one of her hands going to the back of his head. The light pressure pushing his face into her pussy drove him wild. He dove in and pressed his open mouth to her, spearing his tongue deep inside. Her muscles were taunt.

While he moved his mouth up to suck on her clit, Danny slipped his middle finger into her, curling it up. He got the reaction he wanted when she cried out and bucked her hips up. The wordless feedback only heightened his desire as he played her with his tongue and fingers. It didn’t take long before he could feel her tightening and her gasps of pleasure getting louder. A few more seconds and she was coming all over his face, her thighs pressing against his temples and cheeks. He hoped she’d have a red mark on her inner thighs tomorrow from the scruff of the hair growing along his jawline. Anything to mark her as his.

When he pushed himself up from his knees, she was still on her back in the bed, her legs hanging uselessly off the edge and an arm thrown over her eyes. He watched the ragged rise and fall of her chest as she pulled in breath after breath.

Amanda finally came around and lifted her hand to him. Instead of letting him pull her up, she pulled him down. Danny let her push him over onto his back and pull his boxers off. Her eyes were hungry as she ran them down her body. Her gaze alone was enough to make him hard as steel.

He’d expected her to straddle and sink down onto him, but instead she knelt between his legs and leaned down to run the tip of her tongue over the head of his cock. It happened slowly, but he had no time to prepare for the reality of the way her tongue felt on him. Before he would make a sound, she had opened her mouth and taken half his cock into it.

The warm, velvet wetness of her mouth was overwhelming. Danny very nearly came right then and there. Instead, he reached down and gathered her hair up into his hand so he could see her face as she sucked him, could see the way she looked up at him through her lashes while the tip of his cock hit the back of her throat. It was too much, too good. He fisted her hair and pulled her off him.

“I want to be inside you.” He’d intended it as a demand, but it came out as more of a plea. A plea which she thankfully assented to by straddling him. The tip of his cock came dangerously close to entering her when she leaned forward and grabbed a condom off the nightstand. He’d left them out because he’d been feeling especially hopeful about the course of the evening earlier that day. 

His teeth clenched as he watched her carefully roll the latex down the length of his cock before adjusting herself over him. With one hand on her hip and the other fisted in the sheet on the bed, he watched as she held his cock at the base and poised herself right over it. Relaxing her body, she lowered herself onto him, and he easily slipped right inside to feel the heat of her body through the condom. He’d have done pretty much anything to feel her without the latex, but Danny knew it was safe sex or no sex. Plus, they weren’t in a relationship. He kept having to remind himself of that because every time he looked up and saw the elegant line of her neck when she threw back her head in pleasure, he felt like there was no way he’d ever be able to give this up.

Her breaths were short and shallow. Her tits were bouncing. Her body was quivering. And his head was spinning. Danny cupped her left breast in his hand while he used the thumb of his free hand to swipe across her engorged clit. She cried out and rolled her hips, almost frantic in her movements, like she was chasing down her pleasure or his pleasure. Or both.

Another gentle touch of his thumb and she was nearly gone as she gasped his name. That’s what did him in, actually. The way she’d said his name like he meant everything in the world to her. What if he retired and stuck around? And what if he didn’t? Danny was pretty sure Amanda would agree to a relationship if he did. And if he didn’t, then he’d get to spend a little more time playing hockey, his first love, before retiring to pretty much the same place he’d be in if he retired immediately. Except there was a good chance that place wouldn’t have Amanda.

It all flashed through his mind as he came, lifting his hips up to stay buried deep inside her. She was coming, too, her hands splayed out and braced on his chest. As he started coming down from the high, he mentally shook his head. It was crazy to think of retiring early. He still had a couple good years left in him. He still had teams interested. He’d never let anyone derail his dreams before and he wasn’t about to let that happen now. It’d suck to lose her, but that was just the way things go.

She might still be around in two or three years. They could still be friends. He could swing by when he was in town for a game. If she didn’t get herself a boyfriend, he added. And then he didn’t know what he would do because the idea of her with some guy who couldn’t appreciate her was enough to drive him crazy. The irony of the situation he was in with her was not lost on Danny. Here he was worried about her dating an unworthy guy when he was using her for sex.

“Wow,” Amanda said softly. He tilted his hips and let her fall off him onto the bed. Quickly, he disposed of the condom and settled back into the bed to wrap his arms around her. She sighed and shifted closer to him as the next song started. He was a total asshole that didn’t deserve her. Danny was absolutely sure of that.

“You’re still staying the night, right?” he asked.

“If you don’t mind.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“I insist,” he replied, pulling her even closer.

“Tonight was fun. Kinda weird, but fun.”

“Those fancy dinner parties aren’t my thing, but I feel obligated to go out of respect for their appreciation.”

“You looked nice in your suit,” she said shyly before lifting her head up to kiss his lips.

Danny smiled when she pulled away. “You looked even better in your dress. So good, in fact, that I couldn’t wait to get it off you.” And then he kissed her back, but more insistently and with his lips parted so he could taste her with his tongue.

* * *

Amanda was sure she was in heaven. Danny had woken her by shaking a bag in front of her face that morning. He was in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. In his left hand was a cup of coffee and the right hand was holding a bag that contained two bagels and a small tub of cream cheese.

After they’d eaten in bed with her modesty only protected by the sheet, he’d pulled off his hoodie and crawled back into bed next to her.

“I have to pee, but I don’t want to leave this bed,” she said when he pulled her closer.

Danny chuckled. “Better go pee. Mostly just because I want to see you run across the room naked.”

Amanda punched him lightly on the chest before pulling away and separating the sheet from the comforter on the bed. With care, she wrapped the sheet around her body and went into the bathroom to freshen up. After using the toilet and hastily brushing her teeth with her finger, she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was a mess, and her makeup from yesterday was looking a little rough around the edges, but she looked happy. And she couldn’t remember the last time she’d looked at herself and thought that. Years, most likely.

When she came out of the bathroom, he was sprawled across the bed and the affection she felt for him was beyond anything she could have prepared herself for.

“I’ve got the day off and I plan on trying really hard to convince you to spend yours here,” he said, watching her walk back over the bed.

“That’ll be a pretty easy task,” she told him.

Danny flashed her the grin of his that was unfiltered and beamed happiness. “You can’t keep that sheet wrapped around you all day, though.”

Feeling happy and brave and ridiculous, she fisted the edges of the sheet in her hands and whipped it open to reveal her naked body to him. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen it before, but that had always been at night in a frenzied attempt to have sex. It was almost ten on a Sunday morning and he was fully clothed. As soon as she’d snapped the sheet open, she’d wrapped it tightly back around herself.

“Come here, little girl,” Danny teased, crooking his finger at her.

“You look like you’re up to something,” she said, stepping up beside the bed.

He moved his hand down to his crotch to cup himself. “I am up to something, but I figured I needed to feed you first before I tried to get in your pants again.”

Amanda laughed and sat down on the bed. As soon as her ass hit the mattress, he’d leaned over and grabbed her, pulling her into the middle of the bed. “I don’t have any pants on,” she told him with a grin.

“Even better,” he said before he kissed her and unfolded the sheet from around her body. His hands were everywhere at once--her breasts, her stomach, her shoulders, her thighs, her face, her arms. She sighed and arched into him, shamelessly begging him with her body to continue.

And he did continue until she was strung out so much on the feel of his hands that she was helping him pull his sweats off so he could be inside her.

* * *

They’d both fallen asleep after having sex that morning. Amanda woke just after one and finished drinking her cold, stale coffee. Then she rummaged through Danny’s closet and found a T-shirt of his she could wear while she went into the kitchen and hunted for a glass to put water in. When she turned around to walk back into the bedroom, Danny was bent over the turntable.

“What are you doing?”

“Just putting on some music. Van Morrison?”

“What album?” she asked, making her way over to him.

“Tupelo Honey.”

“Mmm, that’s a good one. Haven’t heard it in forever, though.”

He dropped the needle on the edge of the record and turned the sound up enough that they could easily hear the music in the bedroom.

“Come on,” he told her, pulling her back to his bed. Amanda closed her eyes and followed him. This was bad. And this was the best Sunday she’d had in forever. As much as she loved every second of it, she was also waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for him to leave her or tell her that he was dating some other woman or fucking around with some other girl. And then her heart would break. It was difficult for her to think about the repercussions of what she was doing. Every minute with him was making her fall deeper and deeper.

They both crawled into the bed, except backwards with their heads at the foot of the bed and their limbs all haphazard. He was in a pair of grey boxer-briefs and she still had on his shirt.

“I love this record,” Danny said, sliding his arm underneath her neck so she could rest her head in the cradle of his shoulder.

Amanda trailed her fingertips over his chest, tracing the stars that were tattooed just below his collarbones. “Me too. Everything he’s done is just amazing and soulful and inspiring.”

After a long moment of silence, Danny said, “How have you been lately? And tell me the truth.”

Amanda closed her eyes and searched herself. Truthfully. “I’ve been okay. The new job helps. Time helps. You help.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” he said.

“How have you been?” She lifted her hand to run her fingers through his hair. “How’s the head?”

“Getting better. Might not make it back before the first round of the playoffs, but the headaches and nausea aren’t as bad as they were a week ago.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard,” she said, tugging gently on his hair before moving her fingertips back to tracing designs on his chest.

They rested there in silence, listening to the first side of the album. It was mellow and perfect for a lazy Sunday with a fellow music-lover. When the first side ended, Danny hopped up and flipped the record. He was back in a few seconds just as the opening chords of Tupelo Honey started. It was a favorite song of hers--something that sounded timeless, a classic ballad about love.

In Danny’s absence, she’d rolled onto her stomach, and when he returned he slipped a hand underneath the shirt she was wearing to run the rough pads of his fingers over the skin of her back. His touch was light as he laid there beside her and idly traced lines up and down her back from her shoulder blades to where the small of her back swelled out into her ass. Neither of them said anything, but Amanda could barely breath. Losing him would be tragic, and she wasn’t important enough to hold his attention for much longer, especially with the NHL beckoning.

As the song faded out, he cleared his throat. “I, uh, I heard back from my agent.”

She swallowed and braced herself for the worst.

“Phoenix and Florida are interested.”

Amanda closed her eyes and turned her head away from him, laying it on her folded arms. “That’s great, Danny. I know you were worried about not finding a place to play this coming season.”

“WGN offered me a job, too.”

She turned her head back to him and lifted her lids. “Hosting a show?”

He nodded and rolled onto his back. She followed suit and did the same. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s a big pay cut, though.”

“Yeah, us mere mortals don’t pull in six figures a year.” He wasn’t going to take the WGN position. She knew it deep down in her heart. He’d be moving to Phoenix or Florida soon. The love of the game was too much for anything else to overcome it, even music. And especially not her.

Danny sighed. “Yeah. I just... I’ve got at least a couple good years left in me before I can’t keep up with these nineteen-year-old kids they’re bringing up from the minors. The money isn’t everything, but it’s nice. And I love the game.”

“I know you do,” she replied. Hopefully he couldn’t hear the sound of her heart shattering into a million pieces all over his bed.

“I can always go back to radio when I retire from the NHL.”

“Yeah, you can.” Amanda clenched her teeth together, willing herself not to cry.

“It’s just a couple years.”

“Yeah.”

She wondered if he wasn’t thinking about her or if he was avoiding the subject since it was sensitive. Either way, she had no right to be unhappy or angry with him. He’d been upfront when he’d proposed the idea of friends with benefits to her. He’d pretty much said that he wasn’t long for Chicago and didn’t want to get into a relationship. And just like a stupid girl, she’d fallen right into the trap of feeling like this was more than just convenient fucking with a friend.

“I’ll... miss you.”

The three soft words that had left his lips turned on her tears. The tale-tell stinging in her sinuses accompanied the two tears that rolled down out of the corner of each of her eyes. Before they could trace salty paths down her temples and into her hairline, she hastily wiped them away, disguising the movement as a stretch.

“I’ll miss you too, music nerd.” Amanda was proud her voice didn’t break when she said it.

“Just because I’m not here doesn’t mean you can’t call or text. And I’ll be through town for games and shit.”

The words were nice, but empty. She knew it was just lip service to make things easier. “Sure,” she agreed, playing along with the make-believe game that they were going to stay friends and she’d be okay with him screwing around with other women. She wouldn’t be able to begin to think about dating if he was still available to her, even if it was just by phone.

It had been good while it lasted. He’d gotten her through the worst of her grandmother’s death and for that she’d be forever grateful. Now she just needed to figure out how to get over him before she could really start her life again.

“Hey, are you okay?” He sounded concerned and the last thing she wanted was for him to show her attention and concern while he was breaking her heart. She’d rather he be callous and uncaring, telling her to stop being such a baby; it was just fucking. But it wasn’t just fucking, at least not for her

“Just sad to see you go. I’ll miss listening to music with you and helping with the radio show.” And the sex. She’d miss that, too. But it was secondary right now. She’d miss HIM first.

He rolled over onto this side and propped his head on his arm so he could see her. Amanda didn’t want him studying her face so she turned onto her side as well. Danny accepted it and wrapped his arm around her waist. She could feel the puff of his breaths tickle the hair at the nap of her neck right before his lips brushed across the skin there. “I’m sad to go,” he whispered.

The four words knocked the breath out of her and almost turned the tears back on. It would have been so much easier if he’d acted like he didn’t care.

* * *

Against her better judgement, Amanda had let herself be seduced into sex with him before dinner. They had ordered Chinese that had been delivered to his door only a few minutes after they’d both come, calling each others names. They ate in bed, taking care not to drop any fried rice or sweet and sour chicken onto his sheets.

When they’d finished, Amanda excused herself. She locked the bathroom door, turned on the faucet, and cried while she clung to the marble vanity. The tears were mostly silent and faded quickly. A splash of water across her face that damaged the waterproof mascara she’d been wearing for too many hours was enough to make her feel human again. She combed out her hair with her fingers, cleaned up the raccoon eye look with a tissue, and tugged on her dress before stepping out of the bathroom to see him sitting on the edge of the bed.

In all fairness, he looked like shit. Either he was feeling sick or he wasn’t as ambivalent about leaving as she’d thought. Part of Amanda wanted to go sit down beside him and ask him if he really wanted to leave and why he wouldn’t stay in Chicago, even though she knew the answer to at least one of those questions. He wanted to play hockey. She was nothing compared to his first passion.

“I have to work tomorrow. Do you mind driving me home?” she asked. It wasn’t what she wanted to say, but it was the most dignified thing she could manage at the moment.

Danny nodded. “Yeah. Sure. Let me grab my shoes and keys.”

Her place wasn’t too far from where he lived; it took less than thirty minutes for him to pull into her driveway. Amanda pulled off the seatbelt and glanced over to give him a weak smile.

“Thanks,” she said. “For the weekend.”

“Amanda.” His voice was sharp, and it stopped her just as she was about to lever herself out of his car.

She looked over her shoulder. “Yeah?”

His eyes looked stormy and tumultuous. “I... Thanks for going to the dinner with me.”

“Thanks for asking me.”

He reached out and used a hand on her shoulder to turn her back toward him. And then he slid that hand to the back of her head and kissed her on the lips. It was a sweet kiss that lingered. “Talk to you later,” he said as she pushed herself out of the low car.

“Later,” she agreed before shutting the door. It was a testament to her strength that she didn’t break down and sob until after she’d shut and locked the front door.


	6. Chapter 6

Amanda felt bad for him. He was still on the injury list and not able to play, but the second game of the first round was that evening. He still went to the games in his suit and tie and supported the team and talked to the guys, but he couldn’t dress because he still had concussion symptoms. He’d called her three times since he’d left for Nashville.

She felt worse for herself because the clock was ticking, and she’d soon be living a life without Daniel Carcillo in it. Sure, he might text or call now and then, but she wanted more than he was willing to give, and she wasn’t talking about the sex. She wanted him in her life for good, which was something he’d been upfront about not being able to give her. She was a stupid, stupid girl.

For the past day she’d been thinking she should be the one to cut things off before he left. He’d seen her at her worst--lonely, unhappy, incapable of dealing with life, weak. She’d let him use her, though to be fair, she’d also used him. But standing there looking forlorn while he walked away? That was just too much. She needed to regain some of her dignity, and the only way to do that was to tell him they had to stop. Stop having sex, stop seeing each other, stop talking. If it wasn’t a relationship, then it couldn’t be anything because no other man would measure up while Danny was standing off in the wings, offering a roll in the hay when he blew through town.

Cutting him out meant giving up weeks in which they could still talk, see each other, sleep together, whatever was on the menu. Amanda hadn’t followed the season that closely with all the turmoil in her life, but she knew Chicago was favored to win the first round. And being a fan herself, she believed they could make a run all the way to the finals. That would take them into June before he scooted off for a summer vacation and summer training in a place other than Chicago. Almost two more months of hearing his voice and waiting for him to drop by her house and pin her to the bed with his gorgeous body.

Could she give that up? She had to if she wanted to maintain her dignity and control of her life. She couldn’t let him just waltz in and waltz out calling all the shots like his dick was going to bring her back into the real world after living so long with a terminally ill grandmother across the hall.

Amanda sighed and rolled over in bed. Sleep hadn’t been coming easily lately, not since she’d realized her days with him were numbered. But it wasn’t fair that she laid all the blame on him for her situation. She’d asked for it, agreed to it, never complained about it. She was a willing participant in the charade and she’d gotten caught in her own trap. What was the saying? Hoisted by her own petard. She’d fucked herself by thinking she could handle friends with benefits when it was obvious she was incapable. And now she was lying in bed getting salty about Danny’s role in the situation when he hadn’t done a damn thing other than lend her an ear and ask her if she wanted to have sex.

Sex she was going to miss. Amanda closed her eyes and imagined the way his body felt behind her with his arm thrown over her waist. Heaven. And she needed to stop it before it got any worse. Tomorrow she’d call him and tell him that they needed to shut things down.

* * *

He got back into town on Saturday morning according to his text. He was still unable to practice and asked if she wanted to spend time with him. Amanda was feeling sad and sorry for herself, and she bitterly wondered if spend some time was code for have some sex. Because that’s what it was.

And then, before she shot back a text full of attitude, she remembered that he’d spent a great deal of time with her that didn’t involve sex. Phone calls, meals, coffee, nights spent on her couch talking about music. Hell, he even came over and helped her bag up her grandmother’s clothes. It wasn’t fair to throw him under the bus and say he’d just been there for a piece of ass when that hadn’t happened right away.

Instead she texted him back and told him they had to talk. She knew it was a shitty thing to throw out there, but she didn’t want him coming over and charming her pants off even if one final farewell fuck was what she really wanted. Scratch that, it was what she’d settle for. She really just wanted him.

His response had been short, saying that he’d be there in an hour. True to his word, he was there in less than fifty minutes. She met him at the door, her lips thinned out into a grimace.

“Hi,” she said softly, her stomach in knots.

His eyes darted from her to the the ground as he stepped inside. “Hey, you okay?”

He knew what was up. She could feel it. Fun time was over and reality was crashing back in to the little world they’d shared for a brief moment in time.

She watched as he sat on the end of the couch and fiddled with the drawstrings of his hoodie, waiting for her answer, but not doing it patiently. He looked like he was going to the execution chamber. Her heart went out to him because she felt the same way. She stayed standing several feet away because she didn’t know where to sit. Definitely not beside him.

“I, uh, I’ve been thinking about... us.”

“Yeah,” Danny nodded. She was right. He knew what was coming as well as she did.

“Danny, I can’t do this anymore.”

He looked up and locked her gaze with his for a beat before dropping his eyes again. “Yeah, okay.” It was too easy. Her heart was aching from giving him up and for him making it seem like he didn’t even think about fighting for her.

“I mean, you’re a wonderful person. But this is... dangerous for me. I’m in a weird spot in my life, and you’re easy to care about. And I think I might care too much. Which makes it hard for me to see you go.”

He’d lifted his gaze again to look at her. His dark eyes were soft, but unreadable. She couldn’t figure out what was going on in that head of his. Was he thinking the same thing? Was he wondering why she was making such a big deal about this? Did he care? He had to care, even just a little bit.

“It’s hard to go,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. The four words took her off-guard.

Before she could formulate a good response, she said, “Then why are you going?”

Danny’s smile was forced and strained. “You know why. Because that’s the way it is. Because I play hockey and that means I have to go where they want to pay me. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to stay here.” He shifted in his seat like the conversation was making him uncomfortable. “I told you that in the beginning. That I probably wouldn’t be here past this season.”

Amanda felt stupid. “I know.” She knew, but she’d hoped that she’d change his mind, even though she knew she couldn’t. What a dumb way to think and feel, living in a conflicted wonderland instead of reality. “I’m not blaming you,” she told him. “Just saying that I’m throwing up the white flag. I’m out. I can’t do it anymore.”

“Okay,” he said, leaning forward and resting his forearms on his knees. His head was down so he could stare at the ground between his feet.

Amanda swallowed the lump in her throat. She needed to be clear, to make him understand without question. “I’m out all the way, Danny. No calls, no texts. I’ve got to protect myself.”

He didn’t look up. “I hear you.”

“I’m sorry.”

He did lift his head then, his eyes looked so sad. “Hey, don’t be sorry. That’s just life, right? People come and people go.”

Amanda turned on her heel, trying to hide her face from him because the burning in her sinuses could only mean that she was two seconds from tearing up. “Yeah,” she muttered, wrapping her arms around her body and looking out the window into the backyard. The last snow had finally thawed, but the grass looked dead. It had been a long winter.

“Look, I don’t want you to think that I don’t care about you. Because I do. If things were different, then... hell, I don’t know. If things were different then I’d try to be more than friends with you.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, maybe we blurred those lines sometimes. I’ll take responsibility for that.”

He was saying all the things she wanted to hear, but not really in the right away. He was saying that he cared and he wished they were more than friends and that his feelings were hazy too. But not enough to stay. Not enough to ask her to try a long-distance thing with him. Not enough to put forth more effort to keep her. Right now she was just convenient and available.

“We both blurred the lines,” she replied, her back still to him.

She heard him stand up and walk toward her. Tilting her head up, she blinked back the tears that were threatening to spill over.

“I should probably leave, yeah?” He was close, just a couple feet away.

Amanda nodded, but didn’t turn around. “Yeah.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll miss you. For what it’s worth.” His voice was thick and didn’t sound like carefree Danny.

“I’ll miss you, too,” she managed to say without her voice breaking. “Good luck in Florida or Phoenix or wherever you end up. And... good luck with the radio thing after. I still think you should give it a go.” She felt like she was saying goodbye to her best friend, to the person she cared about the most in life. To someone she could love. Maybe did love.

“I will,” he told her. “Take care of yourself, Amanda.” He placed a hand gently on her shoulder and pressed his lips to the back of her head. Her heart ached as he pulled away. The heavy thump of his boots as he walked to the door reverberated through the small house. Then she heard the creak of the door opening and the muffled thud of it shutting.

And he was gone. For good.

* * *

Work was the only thing saving her from spiraling down into a depression again. She threw herself into the project and spent almost all of her waking hours in the office. The next Saturday she met with a realtor about selling the house. She could stash the money away, rent a cheap apartment closer to the office, and save up for a nice place down the line. She needed a fresh start, away from all the memories.

The realtor had left a contract to sell the house, and Amanda had picked it up three times over the following week, but could never seem to bring herself to sign it. It stayed on the kitchen table, a lone white rectangle floating on the wooden surface.

The entire city of Chicago had hockey fever. Danny was back and able to play again, which meant that Amanda did everything she could to avoid seeing or reading news about the Blackhawks. Maybe once he skipped town she could reclaim her team and follow them again. For now it was too much and too soon. She was still tender over losing Danny.

Most nights she fell asleep imagining him there with her. The steady pull and push of his breath against her body that had lulled her to sleep that weekend in his condo was still a crisp memory that haunted her. The warmth of his skin and the light touch of his fingertips all over her body were also fresh in her mind.

She thought about him, but tried not to do so. And despite it all, she hoped he was happy or would be one day soon. It had been almost three weeks since she’d seen him last, and she needed to take action. Tomorrow she’d sign the contract and put the house on the market and take charge of her own life for the first time in a long time.

* * *

He’d been sad, maybe even depressed, at first. Not being able to call her or drive over to her place felt strange. Listening to music brought back memories that hurt. But it had been manageable, mostly because he was neck deep in the playoffs. They had a way of consuming his life. It was all a blur of hockey arenas, hotel rooms, and emotions that were running high. A couple of the guys had asked him about Amanda now that they’d met her, but Danny brushed off the questions by insisting she was just a friend. WAS a friend. Maybe not so much any longer.

Their run to the Cup ended when they lost in the conference finals. Danny was disappointed, but for some reason the loss of the Cup was nothing compared to the loss of the woman he’d been talking to since almost the beginning of the year. Now his days were spent giving exit interviews, cleaning out his locker, making summer plans, and listening to his agent tell him about what Phoenix and Florida were offering. It was significantly less than what he was currently making, and it was probably the best he’d get.

Each day that passed got worse. Each day he became more and more sure that he had fucked up. Fucked up really bad. Sure, he had his career, and he could go play for another team, make friends in a new city, make four hundred grand while doing it. Those were all things he could do. And he could do them all alone.

When the time to retire came around, whether that was in a year or two or three, then he could do that alone too. Danny hadn’t met anyone like Amanda in his thirty years, and he was convinced that he wasn’t going to be lucky enough to find another her in the next two. So, he’d retire alone, and he’d struggle to find his place in the world again. And she’d probably be engaged to some tech wizard at the place she worked by then.

The thought was depressing and actually made him afraid for the future. Not just bullshit afraid like he didn’t know if he could handle coaching an after-school hockey program for some extra cash when he retired, but really afraid for where his life was going and whether he could be happy with that direction.

His locker was empty, the last interview given, his condo almost bare with most of his clothes in a handful of suitcases and bags sitting around the floor of his bedroom. He’d planned on going home to visit with his folks before getting down to business training for next season. The only things he’d left out were his XBox so he could occupy himself for another day and his laptop. He’d probably end up driving, but he needed to stick around Chicago for one more day. He had a radio show scheduled for Thursday night, and he didn’t want to leave WGN hanging. They’d been too good to him.

He’d spent most of his morning going over the playlist and driving himself crazy. He wanted to play her songs, all those wonderful tracks that she’d talked to him about and shared with him. Every song he listened to reminded him of her or seemed to be talking about loving someone or losing someone. Or both.

Danny wasn’t quite sure when he made up his mind, but by two o’clock that afternoon, he pushed away from his laptop and picked up his cell phone. He could either take a chance and end up with her or he could play it safe and end up without her. For the first time in his life, taking the chance for a woman seemed like the only option and a hell of a lot less scary than the prospect of life without.

She didn’t answer his call. He left a voicemail asking for her to call him back. She didn’t return it. He called again at five o’clock and again at nine o’clock that night. The third call went directly to voicemail like she was avoiding him. It was something he hadn’t considered. The urge to throw on his coat and ride over to her place was something he barely suppressed.

He’d get his ducks in a row and then he’d talk to her. Once the decision was made, all his anxiety just faded away. He’d thought he’d be nervous and second-guessing himself over choosing a different path, but he really felt like a weight had been lifted and his future was finally going to start. And it would start with a call to WGN.

Sure, he’d make more money by playing another year in the NHL, but money wasn’t making him happy. She was, and she was in Chicago. How could he say no to talking about music for a living and maybe seeing her every day?

Danny had the cell number of the director of programming. The guy had become a good friend and a champion of pretty much anything Danny wanted to do. He answered the phone at almost ten o’clock on a Tuesday night, which was a minor miracle.

“Hey, Rob. Remember that offer you made me for a full-time position?” he said when the man answered the phone.

* * *

By Thursday he had his shit together, and he felt oddly exhilarated and optimistic about the future. WGN had agreed to hire him, airing his show twice a week in a prime slot at night. He’d called up a few buddies in the area who had hooked him up with a summer coaching gig with a local teen hockey club. He felt more qualified to sort out sixteen-year-olds than eight-year-olds. The summer gig might turn into a full-time thing if the league liked him and he liked coaching. It was more than he could have asked for.

The hardest call to make had been to his agent to announce his intention of retiring. The notice had been met with denial and concern, but Danny had never been so sure of something in his life. This was right; it felt right. Chicago was a good city. He liked the atmosphere and could see himself putting down roots here. With her. She was the only piece of the puzzle that he hadn’t put into place yet. That was because she wouldn’t return any of his calls or texts. He wasn’t about to proclaim his feelings on her voicemail like a chump.

But he had hope that she’d still listen to his show tonight and he could get to her through it. Make her understand he was serious by declaring it for anyone in the Chicago area to hear. Everything up to this point had seemed like a piece of cake when compared to spilling his heart for her.

Danny waited impatiently for the DJ before him to wrap up the Friday night jazz show. The man set the final song to playing after signing off and wishing his listeners a good evening. While he cleared out, Danny settled in, adjusting the mic and pulling the chair up closer. He pulled out his notes and queued up his intro music and the first song, which he planned on playing immediately.

As the intro played, he felt his stomach knot up in anxiety and nervous energy. What if she wasn’t listening? What if she didn’t believe him? What if she didn’t care? What if he couldn’t get her back, even after all he’d done? Danny pushed the concerns to the back of his mind and focused on the radio show.

The song selection was heavy on love songs, some more rock-influenced and some having more soul. Forty five minutes into the show as the last song faded out, he turned on his mic and started speaking. While he was talking to his audience, he was only really talking to her.

“So, I have to tell you guys something a little personal here. A few months ago I met this amazing woman. Her name is Amanda, and I hope she’s listening tonight. Although, I can’t be sure because I might have made a mess of things with her. See, I’ve got this job that requires a lot of travel and possible relocation once my contract is up. Chicago chose not to extend mine into next season, so I told Amanda that I’d be moving on to another city that wanted to sign me. And that was the truth until I sat down by myself and thought about my life and what I wanted and what I was feeling.”

Danny cleared his throat, his nerves catching up with him. “WGN has given me permission to announce that, as of tonight, The Bomb Shelter will be a fixture on the station twice a week. Sunday and Wednesday nights at nine o’clock. I’m sorry to see the end of my NHL career, but I’m happy to say that I’m sticking around Chicago to do what I love: talk about music. And, if you remember what I said earlier about the girl, I’m hoping that she’ll let me stick around for her, too. Which brings me to the next song. Amanda, I think one of the first things you ever told me was that your dad named you after this song. Maybe he knew that one day some stupid guy like me would be playing it for you, trying to say something he’s been too scared to say for too long.”

Danny hit play and cut his mic. He was sweating like he’d run a marathon and his stomach was twisted in knots as the opening notes of Boston’s Amanda floated out over the airwaves. God, he hoped she was listening.

_Babe, tomorrow’s so far away. There’s something I just have to say. I don’t think I can hide what I’m feeling inside another day, knowing I love you._

Brad Delp’s vocals cut through the strumming of Tom Scholz’s guitar. Scholz was one of those musicians that Danny had a great deal of respect for because he was a craftsman. The song was perfect, and he couldn’t have found a better conduit to tell Amanda that he’d fallen in love with her somewhere along the line. Maybe he should have known that on the Sunday they’d spent together in his bed. He definitely should have known when she’d told him that she couldn’t see him any longer and his stomach had immediately dropped into his feet. He’d been too proud or too afraid to admit it.

Halfway through the song, his phone started dinging with messages. Most of them were Twitter mentions, a few were direct messages, a couple were texts from friends asking him what was going on. He’d only told Toews and Sharpie that he’d decided to retire. His retirement and his love life were probably news to everyone else.

Danny flipped through the messages, looking for her name. Nothing. Everyone was responding but the one person he wanted to hear from. What if she never heard it? What if she wasn’t listening to him pour his heart out on the airwaves? He started feeling stupid and foolish and pathetic.

As the song ended, he flipped his mic back on. “I’m going to ask a favor to everyone out there listening. If you know a woman named Amanda Hanser, can you tell her that I love her and ask her to return my calls? I seriously considered dropping by her place earlier this week, but she’s not too happy with me right now.”

Before he could make a bigger idiot of himself, he hit the button to play the queued up commercials. Once they were finished, he went right into the next song without speaking. So many notices on his phone and not one of them from her.

* * *

The next day he went over to her house after five o’clock, hoping he could catch her after work. He did know where her office was, but he didn’t want to show up there and air his personal business in front of the entire staff of CAS Tech. When she didn’t answer, he sat down on the small stoop that served as the front porch and waited. The weather was pleasant--in the lower sixties--and the sky was clear. He sat there as day darkened into evening. Before it got dark enough for the streetlights to come on, he pushed himself up with a heavy heart and trudged back to his car.

Maybe another day would be better. Maybe she hadn’t heard the radio show. Maybe she stayed late to finish work. Maybe she was out on a date. The thought sent white hot jealousy racing through his veins. She wasn’t like that; he didn’t know why he’d even thought it. Things had been real between them, even if they hadn’t been in a relationship. She wouldn’t run off and find some guy to date a month later. His chest ached at the thought, even though his brain told him that he was being crazy.

* * *

She felt her heart lurch when her phone rang. Danny had been calling lately. He’d left two voicemails asking for a call back, but all the other attempts he’d just hung up without leaving a message. This call wasn’t Danny, though. It was Lydia, an old friend from college. They hadn’t talked in over a year.

“Hey, Leslie,” she said to the woman who sat next to her. “I’ve got to grab this call.”

She picked up just before the fourth ring as she was walking toward the elevators. “Hello?”

The voice on the other end was comfortingly familiar. “Amanda?”

“Hey, Liddy,” she said, pressing the ground floor button.

“Hey yourself, stranger. I’ve missed you lately.”

Amanda smiled through the guilt that was licking at the edges of her mind. “I’ve missed you too. And that’s my fault; I’ve been a shit friend.”

“Hey, how’s your grandma?”

“She died back at the beginning of the year.” Amanda grimaced, feeling bad more for Liddy’s likely embarrassment than for her own grief.

Liddy’s voice came back softer. “Oh, honey. I didn’t know. I’m so sorry to hear that. I... I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

“Liddy, don’t worry about it. I’m the one who stopped returning your calls when things got hairy. It’s not your fault.”

“Still, I wish I had known. How have you been? Do you need anything?”

Amanda stepped out of the elevator and made her way across the lobby to the revolving glass door. “I’ve been okay. Getting used to life without her. Got a new job.”

“Good for you. Where at?”

“CAS Tech. It’s a great place to work.” And the job was courtesy of the most amazing man she’d ever met. A man who, as it happened, was also no longer in her life.

“Honey, that’s awesome. Are you sure you don’t need anything? How about I bring over some food and we can catch up one evening?”

“Liddy, you have Chase to worry about.” Chase was her friend’s two-year-old son. Well, he was probably three-years-old now and likely still as much of a handful as at two.

“Dave can watch the hellion for a few hours. I’ve missed you, and I should have called you sooner.”

Amanda sat down on the bench outside and watched the wind rustle the leaves of the trees that lined the courtyard. “Don’t blame yourself for that. Fresh start, clean slate.” It felt good to say it and mean it. It felt good to look forward to catching up with her friend and have someone other than Danny to talk to, especially now that Danny was gone.

“Hey, speaking of Dave. He said he heard something funny on the radio last night. As soon as I got the kiddo down for a nap this afternoon, I figured I’d give you a call.”

On the radio. Amanda felt her stomach drop. Danny’s last show was supposed to air the previous night. “What did he hear?” she asked.

“Apparently some guy who plays for the Blackhawks has, like, a radio show where he plays music or whatever. Dave is, like, the nerdiest nerd there ever was for all the indie rock stuff.”

Amanda held her breath, waiting for Liddy to get to the point. Sometimes she beat around the bush.

“Anyway,” Liddy said, “he’s totally in love with this guy who does this show, and he listens all the time. So, last night he’s listening and the guy, the DJ guy, plays this song called Amanda. And he says that he’s playing it for this girl that he messed things up with.”

“What?” Amanda asked, the world receding quickly and her ears roaring at what was being said.

“Yeah, for real. And then this guy is like, ‘If anyone knows Amanda Hanser, then tell her that I love her.’ Is that crazy or what?”

Amanda opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She closed it, swallowed, and said, “What?”

“So, do you know that guy or something? I mean, he did say your name.”

“What did he say?” She’d heard Liddy the first time, but she couldn’t believe her own ears.

Liddy laughed. “That he loves you. It’s you, right?”

“His name is Danny.” She felt shell-shocked. Where there should have been happiness, there was only confusion and disbelief.

“Yeah, yeah, Daniel Car... something, something. Anyway, do you have something going on with a professional hockey player? Are you holding out on me?”

“No, we’re over. Or, we never really were.”

Her friend laughed again. “Amanda, it sounds like you’re not over if he’s telling everyone that he loves you on the radio. That is so romantic.”

“Liddy, I have to go.”

“Yeah, yeah, call your man. But remember to text me so we can get together in the next week. I’ll bring your fav pizza and we can catch up.”

“Yeah, okay,” Amanda said before, hanging up and bending over to put her head between her knees. There was no way in hell anything Liddy had said was actually true. No way in hell.

Amanda walked back to her desk in a daze. When she arrived, she plugged in her earbuds and navigated to WGN’s website so she could find the podcast of the show from last night. Anxious and oblivious to the office around her, she jumped through the recording, skipping over songs so she could hear him talk. Almost halfway through the show she heard him start talking about her.

_“See, I’ve got this job that requires a lot of travel and possible relocation once my contract is up. Chicago chose not to extend mine into next season, so I told Amanda that I’d be moving on to another city that wanted to sign me. And that was the truth until I sat down by myself and thought about my life and what I wanted and what I was feeling. WGN has given me permission to announce that, as of tonight, The Bomb Shelter will be a fixture on the station twice a week. Sunday and Wednesday nights at nine o’clock. I’m sorry to see the end of my NHL career, but I’m happy to say that I’m sticking around Chicago to do what I love: talk about music. And, if you remember what I said earlier about the girl, I’m hoping that she’ll let me stick around for her, too.”_

Amanda couldn’t breathe. He kept talking and she kept listening, but she had stopped breathing. Her heart was in her throat, and her eyes were shining with unshed tears. All those things that she’d longed to hear from him and she’d missed hearing them. She’d avoided listening to the show and she’d sent every one of his calls to voicemail. She felt sick to her stomach. The song she was named after was playing and Amanda was hearing it in a whole different light now.

“You okay?” Leslie asked, as she walked by.

“I... I have an emergency, and I have to leave early.”

“Can I help?”

Amanda shook her head. “No, I’ll be fine. I just... I need to go do something. It’s very important.”

Leslie nodded toward the door. “Go on. I’ll cover for you.”

“Thanks,” Amanda said with a grateful smile. “I owe you one.” She grabbed her purse and practically ran out the door.

He was staying in Chicago. He’d taken the job at WGN. He loved her. How did that happen? Sure, she’d figured out since they’d stopped talking that she was in love with him, but she didn’t think it would ever be reciprocated, not with her being such a mess. For a moment she almost called him from the car, but it was such a cop out to say it over the phone, especially when he’d announced it over the radio to everyone who was listening.

She drove directly to his condo and banged on the door. There was no answer. She knocked again, but still no response and no sound from inside. Instead of leaving, she pressed her back against the wall and lowered herself to the ground in the hallway. Who cared if her nice black slacks would get dirty; she’d wait for him until he came home.

It turned out she waited over five hours. Her phone’s battery went dead just before seven o’clock that evening so she spent almost two hours staring at the wall of the hallway. Two of his neighbors had come home and given her strange looks before stepping over her outstretched legs. Amanda just felt lucky no one had called the police yet.

The elevator dinged and footsteps could be heard coming down the hall. She closed her eyes and counted to five, hoping that when she opened them he’d be rounding the corner. When she finally opened them and looked down the hall, he was standing there in an old Radiohead T-shirt and a pair of jeans. His arms hung slack at his sides and his hair was haphazardly pushed back away from his face.

“Amanda?” He sounded surprised.

She’d been thinking about what she wanted to say to him when he got there. Instead of the beautiful monologue she’d prepared in her head, she just said, “I got your message.”

“What message?”

“On the radio.”

His eyes widened, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Oh.”

“I’m in love with you, too,” she whispered, barely getting it out before her throat closed up.

She watched him approach in a few long strides before he dropped down to his knees beside her. “I’ve been sitting in front of your door since five o’clock today,” he said.

It hadn’t been what she’d expected from him, but it made her smile. “I’ve been sitting here since three o’clock.”

Danny laughed. “That’s ridiculous. Why didn’t you call me?”

“Because telling someone you love them for the first time over the phone is bullshit.”

“Like telling them you love them over the radio?”

She smiled. “No, that’s romantic.”

Danny stood up and extended his hand down to her. “Come inside with me.”

She let him pull her up into his arms and usher her inside his condo. Once the door was shut, he backed her up against the wall and kissed her until she was gasping for breath and barely able to stand.

“Are you serious about staying?” she whispered.

“Yes,” he replied.

“Did you really retire from the NHL?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

He took her hand and pulled her further into the living room so they could sit on the couch. “Because I’m ready to start the rest of my life. Another year or two in the NHL would be great, but it’s just delaying what’s inevitable. And I’ve got a sweet thing going right now. I’ve got a radio station that wants me to play music I love. And I’ve got an amazing woman who wants my time. And I want to give it to her.”

“Danny, I hope you didn’t retire for me.”

He shook his head. “I retired for me. It was time. Once I made the decision, all my worries just kinda faded away.” He cleared his throat and reached out to take her hand. “The only worry I have is that you don’t want me anymore.”

She laughed at how silly that worry was. “I want you so bad it hurts.”

“Well, you’re stuck with me. And none of that friends with benefits shit.” He was smirking and his eyes were filled with humor.

“Hey, I like what we had going with that friends with benefits thing,” she teased.

He leaned in and kissed her, using his body to push her back onto the arm of the couch. When he was done with her, she was on her back and he was on top of her, one knee planted between her legs and the other foot balancing on the floor to keep his weight off her body. “How about boyfriend with benefits?” he asked.

She laughed. “Even better.”

* * *

Amanda slipped her key into the newly-painted red door and let herself into the house. There was a new couch with a matching recliner, but the place still felt familiar enough to remind her fondly of her grandmother. Music was pumping out of the the new stereo system. And it was loud enough to be heard throughout the small house and into the backyard. She smiled and walked over to the patio door that looked out into the surprisingly big backyard.

Danny was bent over a flower bed, his hands shoved in a mound of dirt. He stood up and wiped his hands on the sides of his jeans. They were covered in dirt, especially on the sides, at the knees, and on the ass. She tilted her head and ran her eyes over the way his ass filled out the jeans. He turned around and smiled at her, probably not even realizing that she’d been checking him out.

Amanda opened the patio door and looked around at a myriad of plants, still in the small trays they were grown in at the nursery. The three large garden beds along the left side of the yard had been overgrown for years, but Danny had cleared them out and filled them with fresh soil.

“What are you doing?” she asked, unable to keep the smile off her face.

Danny walked over and dipped his head to give her a welcome home kiss. “Planting flowers for you.”

“My grandma used to do this every spring. Nobody’s planted flowers back here for years.”

“I’m celebrating our year dating anniversary. Thought you might like some color back here.”

Amanda lifted up on her tiptoes and kissed him again before looking around. He’d bought a grill last summer, and it was sitting on the far side of the concrete back porch. She’d bought patio furniture with a bonus from work about a month ago, hoping they could enjoy more time outside this summer. Now Danny was sprucing the place up with some flowers. It was perfect.

“Thank you,” she said as she slid a hand behind his head and kissed him again.

“You like it?” he asked, rubbing his dirty hands on his jeans again.

“I love it.” The place looked more like a home every day. When they’d finally admitted that they were dating and not just friends, Danny had spent another two months in his condo before Amanda did away with the idea of selling her grandma’s house. Instead, she asked if Danny wanted to move it. The place was paid off and with both their incomes, they had plenty of disposable money to do whatever they wanted within reason. Danny had not said one word about missing the six figure salary the NHL provided.

“I need your help with my playlist,” he said.

“Danny, your show is tonight,”

“Yeah, I know. I’m a bad DJ. Come on, let’s go inside and look at it.”

She followed him into the door, watching him toe off his boots by the door. “You’re not sitting on the couch in those pants,” she warned him.

Danny turned around so she could see he was unbuckling his belt and pulling the zipper down on his jeans. “I know,” he said.

“Are you trying to tempt me into sex before you leave for the station?”

He grinned. “Is is working?”

The jeans dropped to the floor, and he pulled his T-shirt over his head. Amanda licked her lips as she looked at him standing there in his boxers. “Maybe,” she replied.

Danny laughed and lunged forward, grabbing her around the waist as he pulled her toward the bedroom. His dirty hands got moist soil all over her blouse, but it would come out. She didn’t mind.

Amanda couldn’t remember being this happy as the man she loved pulled her deeper into her childhood home so they could make love at five-thirty on a Wednesday afternoon in May.

 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this little ride. I have two other hockey fics that need to be edited for errors/typos before they are posted it. I hope to do that within the next few weeks. Like most writers, I love feedback. Kudos make me smile. Comments make me so very happy. Emails (anogete527@yahoo.com) and missives through Tumblr (anogete) are wonderful. All feedback welcome as long as the negative is in the constructive form, not that bashing form. See you around!


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